Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis
by HumanTales
Summary: After twenty years of happy normalcy, Dudley sees another letter from Hogwarts. This one is addressed to his daughter. Author's Notes: Beta'ed by muggle prof. Disclaimer is on the first chapter.
1. Prologue

**Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis**

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to MuggleProf for her beta job.

**Prologue**

July 1, 1998 

He'd never planned to come back here. He had no attachment to the things he'd left, and he certainly didn't have any attachment to the people. But they were still family, and they'd been in danger because of him. He needed to see them, confirm that they were okay. Then he'd be able to leave them behind, once and for all.

It was Dudley who opened the door to his knock. "Harry!" he said, his eyes wide. Then, looking over his shoulder, he jerked his chin toward the stairs. "Why don't you come up to my room, and we can talk."

"Who is it?" bellowed Uncle Vernon.

"A friend of mine," Dudley answered, "from school. We're going upstairs." Vernon grunted in reply.

As they walked upstairs, Harry could see the remains of the damage that had been done after they'd left last summer. "They did less damage than I'd expected," he said.

Dudley shrugged. "We've got most of it patched up. They broke some stuff, but it didn't look like they were trying to destroy things." He cleared a stack of things from a chair in his room. "We think they knew where you spent most of your time. It was your bedroom and your cupboard where it was worst." He pointed to Harry's trunk, sitting below his window. "I gathered everything they didn't destroy, but there's not much. Still, it's yours."

Harry nodded, touched. "Thanks, Dudley. I mostly came to make sure you were all right. Hestia and Dedalus said you were, but . . ."

"You wanted to see for yourself," Dudley said with a smile. "Thanks."

"How was it?" Harry asked. He hadn't had much time to think about them over the past year, but any time he had, he'd wondered how the Dursleys were doing.

"Mum and Dad hated it. There wasn't any electricity; it was all magic, so we needed help with just about everything." Dudley shrugged again. "I, once I got used to it, I found it kind of, well, interesting. Is that how you're going to be living?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm comfortable in the Mug--, er, your world, but I'll be living in that one. It's where I belong. You won't have to worry; I won't be coming back. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't been hurt or anything."

"He's dead? That evil wizard that was after you?"

"Yeah. He's gone."

"Did you kill him?"

If Dudley had seemed excited by it, Harry wouldn't have answered, but he seemed worried. "Sort of," he finally answered. "His curse rebounded on him. Again."

"And you're okay?" Dudley pressed. "You look all right, but there's nothing . . . hidden? You're not going to die or anything?"

Dudley's worry was so unexpected that it took Harry a minute to be able to answer. "Well, I'm going to die, but we all will. I'm hoping it's a very long time from now."

Dudley's smile was pale and strained. "Did anyone you care about . . .?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I lost some friends." He closed his eyes for a minute. "It was war, Dudley; people died. My godson's an orphan, in fact. I, we, well, we'll mourn. And rebuild."

After a minute's silence, Dudley asked, "Your godson, he'll be with people who love him, yeah? He won't be with people . . ."

Hearing the unspoken "like us," Harry said, "Yeah, his grandmother's going to raise him, and she loves him so much. He's all she has left. And he'll have me, and his parents' other friends. He'll be okay."

Harry finally stood and said, "Yeah, I should get going. I don't want to make things tough for you."

Dudley stood as well, and put his hand on Harry's arm. "Look. I don't expect you to stick around, or even come back, but I don't want to lose you. We may not have much in common, but we're family, yeah?" He looked uncomfortable, as if expressing any kind of affection towards Harry was wrong. Which, Harry knew, his parents believed. Apparently Dudley no longer did.

Harry realized that, without knowing it, this was really why he had come back. "Yeah, I want to stay in touch." He picked a pen and paper off Dudley's desk and scrawled the address of the Burrow on it. "Here's where I'm staying right now. I'll let you know when I move. You, too. Let me know when you move, or get a new telephone number. For right now, you, and your parents, are the only family I have."

Dudley took the slip of paper and slipped it into an address book filled with similar bits of paper. "I will. Good luck"

Harry grinned, cast a Featherlight Charm on his trunk, and threw his Invisibility Cloak over him. "See you."

Dudley grinned and went down the stairs first to distract his parents. Harry could hear him telling them that his friend, "Harvey", had just left, being shy and very quiet. When he'd reached the corner, he set the trunk down and looked back at the house. After a minute, he shook his head, wondering at Dudley, and Apparated away.


	2. Week 1

**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to MuggleProf for all her work and help in beta-ing. Disclaimer is in the prologue.

**July 2, 2018**

Although it was more chaotic than he liked, Dudley Dursley couldn't help gazing happily around his breakfast table. School was out for the year and his oldest son, Rich, was home from Smeltings. Tomorrow, his wife, Sophie, would take their daughter for her school uniform; Daphne would be starting at Smeltings' sister school in the fall. Although the kids seemed determined to prove otherwise, his was a well-ordered, predictable world--just the way he liked it. A decent job, a wonderful wife, three terrific kids; there was nothing more that any sensible man could want.

The clatter of the post sent all three children racing to the front door to collect it. They came back to the kitchen, complaining that Tom had, once again, beat his older brother and sister to the door. Dudley was ignoring the morning quarrel as usual; it would die down much more quickly if he and Sophie stayed out of it, when something Tom said caught his attention.

"Daphne's got a boyfriend! Daphne's got a boyfriend!" he chanted, holding an envelope away from his sister.

"Do not!" Daphne insisted, trying to get the envelope from her brother.

"Then who would send you mail?" Tom asked. "And in such a funny-looking envelope?"

Dudley held out his hand and Tom, with no more than a token protest, handed over the envelope. It was as Dudley had feared; he'd first seen one of these nearly thirty years ago. He carefully looked up at his daughter; was she one of Them? And, really, did it matter? Mum and Dad would have said it did, but Dudley had stopped accepting their judgments without question while still in his teens. His breakfast was finished; Sophie was just finishing her tea. Keeping his hold on the envelope, he walked over to the telephone and dialled his office. "Good morning, Jeannie. Yes, it's Dudley Dursley . . . Look, I'm not feeling very well; is there anything urgent on my schedule for today? . . . No?. . . Great; then I'm taking a sick day. . . No, if you need anything, you can ring me at home. Thanks."

He hung up the telephone and looked at his family, who were staring at him as if he'd been replaced with an alien. He hadn't ever taken a sick day unless the doctor had insisted. "Let's finish up our breakfasts and clean up. Then we can deal with the letter."

Sophie poured the two of them more tea while the kids cleaned up the kitchen. Then, at Dudley's insistence, they moved to the lounge. Still holding the envelope, Dudley looked at Daphne. "I may be completely wrong about what this means, in which case, we'll just take a family day and not worry any more about it. If I'm right . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence. The look Rich was giving him made him think of that Sunday so many years ago. "Daddy's going mad, isn't he, Mum?" he'd asked his mother. He hoped he was handling things better as he handed Daphne her letter.

"What funny paper!" she said as she opened the envelope. Inside were two sheets of that strange, thick paper and a smaller envelope. Opening the top sheet, she read,

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Pernell Higginbotham

_Dear Miss Dursley, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Aurora Sinistra,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Oh, this is stupid! There's no such thing."

"Quite right you are," Sophie said briskly. "We'll just bin it and go on-"

"No, we won't," Dudley said. He didn't care what his parents would say; he loved his daughter and she wasn't a freak! "It's real. There is magic and Hogwarts is a real school. My cousin went there, and so did his mum. Sweetheart, what's on the second page?"

Wide-eyed, Daphne read it all. "It's a list of school supplies. A cauldron? And I can bring a cat, a toad or an owl, but I can't bring a broom. Daddy, are you teasing me?"

"What's the envelope?" Sophie asked.

"It's addressed to you and Daddy," Daphne answered, and handed the envelope to her mother.

Sophie opened the second envelope and read aloud,

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, _

_Ordinarily, we would send someone to explain about Hogwarts to the family of a new Muggleborn student; however, since you're aware of the Wizarding world, we didn't feel it was necessary. If you would prefer a personal visit, please sign this letter below. _

"But they haven't given us an envelope, or a telephone number, or even a return address. How are we supposed to contact these people?"

Dudley walked over and took the note while the boys were reading Daphne's letter and adding their own commentary. Since they weren't being nasty, or no nastier than brothers ever were to their sisters, Dudley let them be. He suspected he knew what would happen when they signed the letter. "Do we want a personal visit? I think we probably should."

"Since this is all completely new to me, I'd say we need one. What about you?" To Dudley's relief, Sophie no longer sounded bewildered. She was beginning to sound annoyed, and at him, not at Daphne. He was beginning to think everything would be all right.

Picking up a pen, he considered what to say. His eyes fell on the collection of photographs on the mantel and he knew exactly what to say. He started writing. Tom came over, apparently bored with teasing his older sister, and read over Dudley's shoulder, "Please send Harry Potter. Not the giant bloke. Dudley Dursley" As soon as Dudley signed his name, the paper vanished. He looked at his family. "Hard to say how long it will take. If we haven't heard anything by evening, I'll write Harry myself."

Sophie, no fool, had noticed his look at the mantelpiece. "Harry Potter," she said as she walked over to it and picked up one of the five nicely framed wedding photographs there. The one in the middle was theirs and there was one each for her sister and her brothers. Each one had a smaller photograph of the couple and any children they had next to it; the latest Christmas card picture. The fifth was Harry's, with his pretty red-haired wife. There was a Christmas photograph there as well: Harry, his wife, two boys and a girl. Every year, he was relieved to see that Harry had again not sent one of the moving photos that they used.

"Does this mean you'll finally explain the problem between the two of you?" Sophie asked, exasperated as always when this subject came up. Sophie had a large close family; in addition to her siblings, she had a lot of cousins with whom she spoke regularly. It had bothered her ever since she'd been writing out their wedding invitations that Harry was never invited to any family gathering. Dudley had told her the truth, if not all of it; that Vernon and Petunia Dursley and Harry Potter in the same room was a recipe for disaster. When she'd pressed for more information, he'd told her that the subject was very painful and that he'd prefer not to discuss it.

"Harry's a wizard," he said. Sophie sat down abruptly and all three kids got quiet. "His mother was my mother's younger sister; when she was Daphne's age, she got a Hogwarts letter, too. Mum didn't." He took a deep breath. He hadn't really thought about any of this in years; the only contact he'd had with Harry since just after he'd turned eighteen was Christmas cards, wedding announcements and birth announcements. It was something he didn't want to deal with; parenthood had convinced him, once and for all, that Harry had been terribly wronged growing up and he'd never known what to do about it. "Mum hated it. I'm not sure whether she always believed it was . . . or if she was just jealous, but she hated magic. And her sister. So, my Aunt Lily married a man from Hogwarts and, after I was born, they had a baby. Harry. Then, just over a year later, they were killed. Murdered."

"Murdered?" Sophie asked. "Will Daphne be in danger? Because if she is-"

"I want to go!" Daphne spoke up. "I want to learn magic!"

"We won't send you where you aren't safe," Dudley said firmly. Sophie relaxed while Daphne scowled. "As far as what happened to Harry's parents, I'm not really sure. Mum would never discuss it or let Harry. After they died, he came to live with us. We, he didn't get treated well. I . . ." Dudley closed his eyes, feeling the heat rise to his face. "I used to beat him up, all the time. Mum and Dad had him doing all kinds of chores and stuff and, well, they never treated him like family. Then, Sophie, don't get upset. I know Harry would make sure we're safe if anything was going on."

"Why?" Tom asked. "Sounds to me like he'd be happy if we got hurt."

Hard as it was to say, Dudley did. "Harry's a better person than that. He didn't like us, but he made sure we were safe. As safe as he could. When he and I were seventeen, he and his lot thought the wizard who killed his parents might come after us to get at him. They protected us, guarded us, for nearly a year, until the bad wizard was stopped. Killed, I think."

"Why would he go after a teenager?" Sophie asked.

Dudley shrugged. "I don't know. When we were kids . . . I've talked more with Harry through Christmas cards than we ever did as kids. I never really asked."

"I don't believe it," Rich said.

"Believe what?" Dudley asked.

"That you treated him badly. Grandma and Grandpa, maybe, but you're too good a person to bully anyone."

Dudley wished he could accept his son's unquestioning belief, but it wouldn't be right. Especially if Harry did come back into his life. He'd worked so hard. . . "Now, you're right. I wouldn't. When I was fifteen, a magical thing, a," Dudley thought for a moment, "a Dementor attacked us. I couldn't stop it, that requires magic. Harry could and, even though I'd just punched him, he did. Fought it off and got me home. Half carried me. Once I got over the shock of it all, I realized what he'd done. What he'd risked; what he did. He could have been killed, but he didn't run. He stayed and he saved me. It made me think and, eventually, it made me change. Who I am now, someone I hope you lot can be proud of, that night had a lot to do with it. Harry never really got to see it, though; he only spent summers with us after he started at that school and, well, he'd leave as soon as he could. I think he only stayed at all because there was some magic spell keeping him safe when he was with us. Safe from bad magic, anyway. Not safe from us."

Sophie reached out to stroke his arm. "At least you realized you did have to change. I don't think I could have loved the man you were becoming, but I can certainly love the man you did become."

Rich was pale. "No wonder you get so angry when someone littler than me gets hurt. But, you know, Tom makes it look worse than it is. All the time."

Dudley rolled his eyes. "We're not discussing you and your brother now. But you're right; that's why I work so hard to treat you lot the same. I want my children to know they're loved. All my children. No matter what."

Daphne threw herself onto his lap. "You won't hate me if I'm a witch?"

"Absolutely not," Sophie said. "We love you. And you, Rich. And you, Tom." She reached over to kiss both boys on the cheek. Tom smiled and cuddled into her side, while Rich winced and wiped his cheek, complaining.

While they were sitting there quietly, an owl came through the window. Before Sophie or the kids could shoo it out the window, Dudley took hold of it and took the letter from its beak. While it stood on the back of the couch, waiting, he opened and read the note.

_Dear Dudley,_

_Before I speak with the rest of your family, I would like to speak just with you in private. I can't do so today; however, I am free tomorrow after four or so. Please send the owl back with a note as to time and place._

_Harry Potter_

Dudley stared at the note, feeling a little sad. It wasn't quite the acceptance he'd hoped for, but it wasn't a rejection either. A further thought cheered him up: Harry probably just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't treat Daphne as his parents had treated Harry. He wrote back with the name of the local pub and seven in the evening and hoped it would be enough.

July 3, 2018 

Harry stood at the entrance to the pub, wishing it were The Golden Snidget. Still, Dudley would probably be as uncomfortable there as Harry was here, and Harry was hoping for a good result out of the evening. So, here it was.

He pushed open the door and looked around. After a minute, he saw Dudley waving to him from a booth near the back. Harry blinked. The Christmas cards Dudley sent had made it clear that Dudley wasn't a carbon copy of Vernon Dursley. He'd slimmed down and seemed to have a nicer smile, instead of the superior smirk Uncle Vernon had always had on those rare occasions when he did smile. Still, Harry had still been expecting Uncle Vernon's glare, not this pleasant smile and hopeful expression. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

Walking over, he extended his hand. "Evening, Dudley. How's it going?"

Dudley shook Harry's hand and gestured to the bench opposite himself. "Not bad. Hoping we're not about to be descended upon by flocks of owls. None this morning, so that's a good start." He poured a mug from a pitcher already on the table. "It's the local brew. Good. If you don't like it, you can have whatever. Thought we'd be more private this way."

Harry sat down and took a sip. "Wow, this is good. Even better than the Snidget's." He set the mug down and tried to order his thoughts. "First, you're not going to get flocks of owls." Grinning, he added, "Well, not until the boys at Hogwarts meet Daphne. She's quite the pretty girl; she's likely to be popular. I got lots of them with my Hogwarts letter because your parents kept destroying them, and Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster back then, wasn't going to accept that I not come to Hogwarts. That's why they eventually sent Hagrid. He's the 'giant bloke'. Daphne's a different case. You and your wife--Sophie, right?--have every right to keep Daphne out of Hogwarts. Thomas, too, in two years when he gets his letter."

Dudley interrupted him. "So, Tom is a wizard? I've been wondering. Kind of hoping I was wrong, but, well, strange things happen around him."

Damn. Harry had been hoping Dudley would be better than Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia about this. "Yes, Thomas is a wizard. And you don't have to send them to Hogwarts, but strange things are going to keep happening if they don't learn how to use their magic." He decided to see what Dudley had to say.

It took a while. Dudley had grown up, and done a good job of it from what Harry could see, but he still didn't think fast. Finally, he said, "What's it like? Hogwarts, I mean, not magic."

"Hogwarts is great!" Harry said. "It's even better now than when I went, since Voldemort is gone and no new evil wizards have come to take his place."

"There aren't any bad wizards?" Dudley asked, his eyes wide.

Harry winced. "Don't I wish! No, we have our criminals and low-lifes, just like you do. It's just that we don't have an evil madman who has a good chance of taking power. With any luck, we won't see another one of those for quite some time. I'd say ever, but . . ."

"But that's too much to ask," Dudley said. He looked relieved. "So, what's it like? And I'll warn you, you'll have to explain it all over again for Sophie. Y'know, if you'd just come to the house, you'd only have to explain it once. She's the smart one anyway."

"If things go well tonight," Harry said, "which it looks like they will, Ginny wanted me to invite your family over for the weekend. Her parents are having their annual Hogwarts Letter picnic on Sunday and you'll get to see how wizards live."

"That sounds like just what Sophie would want. She's been asking me questions since yesterday morning and mostly I have to answer 'I don't know.'" He flushed a little. "Er, Harry, I haven't told my parents yet. I, I don't want," Dudley took a deep breath and said in a rush, "I don't want them to hurt Daphne. Or treat her like a freak. I don't know what to do."

"I certainly don't know either," Harry said. The knots that had been in his shoulders since Professor Sinistra had Floo'ed him yesterday were starting to ease. Dudley wasn't going to treat his daughter as he'd treated Harry; that was the important thing. In fact, Harry was pretty sure that Daphne would be going to Hogwarts in September. Assuming that Sophie could be convinced that it was best for her. "Maybe that she's your daughter and not me will help. Your mum, at least. I don't know if anything will help your dad." He reminded himself of the promise he'd made himself. "It might be better if we don't discuss them; I'm trying really hard to be nice, and I'm not sure I can be about them. Too much water."

To Harry's surprise, Dudley grinned at that. "Yeah, Tom wanted to know why you bothered keeping us safe. I had to admit you were the better man. Can you hear Dad if he'd heard that?"

Harry shuddered. Maybe Dudley could find the humour, but Harry suspected Uncle Vernon would still try to hit him if he heard a remark like that. Of course, Harry wasn't defenceless any more--he could more than hold his own against Vernon Dursley--but his gut wasn't at all convinced. "I'll take a pass, thanks. So, Hogwarts."

Dudley held up his hand. "Harry, please come home with me. Sophie's likely to make me sleep on the sofa if I don't bring you home tonight. And the kids are all dying to hear stories about Hogwarts. Daphne'd probably try to figure out how to turn me green. Or magic you there so she can talk your ear off. She went to the library yesterday and took out every book about magic she could find. She's talking about elves and magic horses and lions and . . ."

Harry groaned. Whenever possible, he avoided talking to the new Muggleborn students for exactly this reason. Having to explain that Middle-earth and Narnia didn't exist--really, truly--gave him a headache. And where did the magic horses come from? "If I come, can we keep the fictional magic to a low roar? Please? Because, really, anything she can get out of the library is fiction, I swear."

"The sooner you tell her, the fewer ideas she'll get into her head," Dudley said with a grin. "Which is for the best. Determined to make the world over the way she thinks it should be, that one."

"Great," Harry said. "Another Hermione. OK, lead the way."

Dudley's home didn't look that different from the house they'd grown up in, but there were obvious differences even from the outside. Although one of the cars in the driveway was a nice sedan that Uncle Vernon would have been proud of, the other was a minivan, with a Smeltings sticker on the rear window, that looked as if it saw a lot of use. The flowerbeds weren't the carefully regimented ones that Aunt Petunia had; they were neat but overflowing with colour. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it, but instead of the neatness and order of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, Dudley and Sophie Dursley's home seemed welcoming and comfortable.

As they walked in the door, they were greeted by four people who appeared to have been waiting right there. After a few minutes of confusion, Dudley put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. Into the quiet he said, "Give the man room to breathe."

"Yes, let's show Daddy's cousin that we're civilized human beings and not wild animals," Sophie said. Turning to Harry, she offered her hand. "I'm Sophie Dursley, Dudley's wife, and I've been dying to meet you. For years, actually. Let me take your coat, and the kids can show you to the lounge." She gave a stern look at the kids. "What would you like to drink?"

"It's nice to meet you, Sophie," Harry answered. "You know, you're even more beautiful in person than you are in your photographs. You didn't have to hide her, Dudley," he said, "I'm quite in love with Ginny. I wouldn't have tried to steal her."

The younger two groaned, but the older boy gave Harry a sharp look. Sophie flushed and walked into the kitchen with his jacket, while Dudley chuckled. "That one makes up her own mind," he said. "Beer, ale, or would you like something stronger?"

"Whatever you're having," Harry said. He winked at the older boy, who relaxed a little. "Now, I know this lovely lady is Daphne. Let's see. You're," he nodded at the older boy, "Richard and this young man is Thomas; am I right?"

"It's Rich and Tom," Rich said. "Lounge is this way."

Once they'd all settled in, and Dudley had handed Harry a glass of what turned out to be whiskey, Harry looked around. "Why don't we start with your questions? Sophie's first," he said, before the kids could start with theirs.

"Is Hogwarts safe?" The look she gave him reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall.

"As safe as it can be made," Harry said, on familiar ground. "Learning how to use magic has risks, and kids don't always follow the rules that are there for their protection. And there's no way to make flying completely safe, but-"

"Do you really use brooms to fly?" Daphne asked, her eyes shining. "Can you use any broom, or are there special ones? We have a really nice broom--"

"Daphne," Dudley said firmly, "you interrupted. Harry was talking and he's a guest. Now, apologize."

"Sorry," Daphne said, her whole body slumping.

With a glance at Sophie, who smiled and nodded, Harry answered, "Yes, we really use brooms to fly, but they're special brooms. They're made specifically for the type of flying needed and they have lots of charms and spells on them, to make them more comfortable and safer. Now, as I was saying," he gave the little girl a stern look, and then focused back on her mother, "flying can't be made completely safe, but we do our best. It's no more dangerous at Hogwarts than at any other school, and we're safer than many."

"What about this war, or whatever it was?" Sophie looked at Dudley. "Dudley couldn't explain much, but it didn't sound so safe to me."

"It's over," Harry said. "I, it's hard for me to talk about, but it's over. The only place Daphne may ever have to worry about it is in History of Magic. If they ever get anyone but Binns to teach it. He's a ghost," he said to Daphne in an aside.

Dudley and Sophie exchanged looks. "I still want to know more about it, but I'll let the kids ask you questions for a bit," she finally said.

For the next two hours, Harry answered questions about Hogwarts and the Wizarding world. To his relief, even though he made it clear to Rich that he wasn't a wizard, he didn't seem to mind and had almost as many questions as his two younger siblings.

When Sophie called the younger two to help her clean up, Harry asked, "Rich, are you okay with this? It can't be easy--"

Rich shook his head. "Dad and I had a long talk about this yesterday. I'm a lot like him, you know, and . . ." He was quiet for a minute, seeming to grope for words. "I like things simple. Magic seems complicated. The more you talk, the more complicated it sounds. I like Smeltings. I have friends there, I enjoy stuff there. I don't want to change everything. Daphne and Tom, they'll be happier with kids like them. Me, I'm happier with kids like me. Okay?"

Harry grinned. He could see Dudley's pride in his oldest son, a justifiable pride. "Sounds good to me. I couldn't help but worry; I know what it's like, being the different one."

Rich grinned. "I may be the different one, but I'm the bigger one. And they can't use magic until they're grown-up; Dad told us yesterday. So, I'm good."

Harry laughed. "Good."

After answering what felt like a million questions, most of them several times, Harry finally stood up. "Look, I have to go to work in the morning and I have to get some sleep." Before Sophie could do more than start to apologize, Harry held up his hand. "This'll all make more sense when you've seen it. So, Ginny has invited the five of you to spend the weekend with us. We can go to Diagon Alley to get Daphne's school supplies, you can see what a Wizarding house is like and, on Sunday, Ginny's parents are having a big picnic to welcome the Hogwarts kids home and congratulate the ones who just got letters, and they've invited you. Can I say you'll come?"

Sophie looked at Dudley who started to nod and stopped. "Ginny's family, they're the ones who picked you up that time? With the candy?"

Harry winced. "Yeah, those were her brothers. They were, well, you didn't treat me well back then and they were experimenting on their product line. You won't need to worry about the food; Mum'll keep George in line."

"And the other one?"

"Fred was killed during the war," Harry said. "So it's just George you have to worry about and, I promise, he really has grown up."

Sophie looked at Dudley. "Candy?"

Dudley shook his head. "Never mind. Bad memory." When he saw she wasn't going to let it go, he said, "They dropped this candy that I picked up and it made my tongue swell. Their dad fixed it, though. Still--"

"George won't do anything of the kind," Harry said, reminding himself to have a long, stern talk with George.

"Where do you live?" Sophie asked.

It suddenly hit Harry how difficult it would be for the Dursleys to find them. "I'll come here and bring you. That'll be easier than your trying to find us. Friday half-seven, then?"

"Friday at seven-thirty," Sophie confirmed. "What should we bring?"

"Yourselves," Harry said. "And enough clothes for the weekend. Nothing fancy; we won't be doing anything that requires dress r-, er, fancy clothes." And with a kiss from Sophie, a handshake from Dudley and hugs from the kids, Harry left, looking forward to the coming weekend.

**July 4, 2018**

Sophie found the whole situation very nerve-wracking. She didn't want to think about what it was doing to Dudley's blood pressure; between his fear of magic, which he'd finally admitted to her, and his near ignorance of the magical world, he didn't know what to expect, and Dudley liked things nice, settled and predictable.

Rich, fortunately, was being calm about the whole thing. He'd taken the attitude that it didn't directly involve him, so the only thing he needed to worry about was ensuring Daphne's protection while at Hogwarts. If she went, a caveat Sophie found herself repeating a dozen times a day. Daphne wouldn't be going until Sophie and Dudley were convinced it was safe.

Tom was interested, but it was a couple of years in the future for him, so he wasn't getting too excited. Sophie hoped he'd wait until he actually got his letter before he got excited; two years of Tom being extremely excited was more than she wanted to cope with.

Her real problem, unsurprisingly, was Daphne. After two solid days of speculation, Sophie finally snapped and said, "Why don't you write all these things down so you can remember them when we visit the Potters over the weekend?" That had sent Daphne off happily to compile her list; Sophie hoped the Potters would forgive her.

Thinking about it, Sophie realised it was actually a pretty good idea. She pulled out pen and paper and started to think.

**July 5, 2018**

Judith put down her Bible, leaving it open at Exodus 22:18. There was a bookmark at Deuteronomy 18:10 as well. She was grateful for concordances; it would have taken her forever to find the first passage without hers, and she wouldn't have known about the second.

She picked up the letter again and read it, then all of the material that Mr. Malfoy had left. He'd seemed nice enough, willing to answer any questions they had, offering to take them to the shopping area for Matt's school supplies.

She turned to the computer to look at the search she'd done earlier, for the meaning of "Malfoy". Bad faith. With a sigh, she read over the letter she'd written, signed it, and got it ready to post. He was supposed to be an expert; she hoped he'd know what to do about the evil that her son contained.

Standing, she straightened up the kitchen and began to prepare dinner. Before she returned her Bible to its place on her bedside table, she looked at that unforgiving verse once more. "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

**July 6, 2018**

Daphne couldn't believe how slow the clock was moving. It had been at least two hours since seven o'clock, and it was only 7:25! The boys were just packing now; they were just throwing clothes into a suitcase and grabbing their handhelds. She didn't really blame Rich--this was just a family visit for him--but didn't Tom realise how important this visit was. Cousin Harry had said that he'd be attending Hogwarts when he turned eleven, and unlike Daphne, he could plan ahead.

Well, boys were stupid; that was all there was to that! Daphne, on the other hand, had been planning meticulously for this visit. She'd reviewed every novel she'd ever read that had magic in it. Cousin Harry said that there wasn't anything real in them, but Daphne refused to believe it. Companions had to be real; she insisted on it. She'd set up a database with all the information she currently knew about magic (all of it from novels, unfortunately), all of the information she knew she would need (classes mostly), and all of the questions she had otherwise. Creating that had helped to keep her from getting too impatient, but it was done now and it was time to leave. And it had been at least another hour, and it was only 7:28.

Finally, at least another hour and a half later, 7:30 came and there was a knock on the door. Daphne held herself back from rushing at the door--it wouldn't do to make a bad impression--and carried her bags to the door.

Daddy was greeting Cousin Harry when she walked to the front door. Cousin Harry smiled at her and gave her bags a questioning look. "It's only for the weekend, you know," he said, his voice kind but amused.

"I know. My clothes and things all fit in here," she said, holding up her smallest bag. Pointing to her laptop case, she said, "That's my laptop and these are my books." That was her old school book bag, which she was really hoping someone else would carry; it was heavy, but every book in it was essential.

"Erm," said Cousin Harry, looking a little surprised. Then, he grinned. "Wait till you meet Hermione; I think you two are kindred souls. Dudley, do you reckon everyone packed something electronic?"

"The boys have their handhelds," Daphne said as Daddy said, "Sophie probably packed her hair dryer. And our mobiles and . . ."

Cousin Harry held up his hand. "Can we get everybody here so I only have to do this once?" At least he looked amused and not upset. Daphne wondered what the problem was.

Once everyone came to the front hall, with Rich trying to convince Mum to bring the portable DVD, Cousin Harry said, "Unless you're ready to replace them, you should leave all your electronics at home. Magic and electronics don't mix; none of them will work and some of them may fry. That includes laptops, mobiles, handhelds, PDAs, hair dryers, electric shavers, and anything like that I'm not thinking of. I should have mentioned it, but I just don't think about it; we don't use them."

"You'll have to give us a few minutes to repack," Mum said. "I'm afraid we're all so used to them we don't even think about it."

"Sure. Sorry I didn't think about it earlier." Cousin Harry walked to the chair in the front hall they used when putting on their shoes and looked ready to settle in.

Daphne was ready to cry, and she was seriously reconsidering Hogwarts. No computers? The rest of it wasn't so important, but how could she do anything without her laptop.

Cousin Harry seemed to know what she was thinking. "You'll meet Hermione on Sunday," he said in his kind voice, "and you two can talk alternatives. In the meantime, print out the questions you've come up with; I'll wait."

"Can I bring the books?" she asked, blinking back her tears. They used books, didn't they? Were they special books?

Cousin Harry grinned. "You most certainly may! Although you may not want to bring too many; we'll be picking up your school books tomorrow and that will give you plenty to read."

Feeling a little bit better, Daphne went upstairs to print out her database. She left her books where they were; there was no such thing as 'plenty to read'.

It took almost half an hour for everybody to unpack all of their electronics and meet again in the front hall. Cousin Harry held up a tattered newspaper. "Good thing I left plenty of time before this activates; we have two more minutes."

"Two minutes?" Daddy sounded nervous. "What's going to happen?"

"This is a portkey," Cousin Harry said. "It's one of the ways we travel. This is set to take all of us to my house in Godric's Hollow in," he checked his watch, "thirty seconds now. Everybody touch the newspaper. You only need a fingertip."

Daddy used a fingertip, and looked like he was ready to jump away. Mum placed her hand on it, the boys each grabbed an end and Daphne placed her finger next to Cousin Harry's arm. He was holding the newspaper flat in his hand so everyone could reach it. Before she could ask what it felt like, she knew.

It felt as if a hook grabbed her behind her navel. There was a rush of air around her for a few minutes, and then it felt like she was falling. Which she kind of did, right into another entrance hall. Daphne stood up and looked around, ignoring the rest of her family, but it just looked like an entrance hall. There was a row of pegs with jackets on them, one that looked about ready to fall off. There was a full umbrella stand and a photograph of a woman flying on a broomstick! And her hair was moving! And, while Daphne watched, she punched the air in victory! Daphne dropped her bags and walked over to the photograph to look at it more closely.

"Daphne Elizabeth Dursley! You get back here this minute until we find what we're doing with our things!"

"But, Mum," Daphne wailed, "the photograph is moving! And she's on a broomstick and she's flying and it's magic and isn't that why we're here and . . ."

"Don't worry, dear. It'll still be here after we get you settled in, and a lot more, too." The woman walking toward her looked like the woman in the picture, but a little bit older. She had red hair and freckles and a nice smile. Behind her were two boys and a girl. The girl was Daphne's age, or maybe a little younger, with long hair and brown eyes. For the first time, Daphne noticed that Cousin Harry's family all wore what looked like long dresses. Was this how magical people dressed? Maybe not always; Cousin Harry was wearing jeans, and he'd been the other night, too. And the lady in the picture was wearing what looked like a sports uniform.

"Daphne, pay attention!" At least her mum didn't sound too annoyed, just resigned. Daphne was known for getting distracted.

"I'm sorry," Daphne apologized. "Everything's so different!"

"That's all right," the woman said. "Harry warned us about that. Now, I'm Harry's wife, Ginny, and these are our children: James, Albus and Lily." James looked disgruntled at being called a child; he was probably Rich's age, and Rich hated that.

Lily gave her a big smile. "You're sharing my room," she said as Daphne heard the arrangements for the others in the background. "Come on. Once you're unpacked, we can eat."

Mostly, the house looked normal. Hallways and doors and stairways were hallways and doors and stairways. But the photographs all moved! They didn't make any noise, but the people in them waved and smiled or scowled or turned away or jumped up and down or, in the case of one little boy, sat down and cried.

Lily's room didn't look that different from her own, full of ruffles and ribbons and "girly" stuff that Lily mostly had tied back out of the way. Daphne sympathised. Ruffles and such were all right in their place, but they had a tendency to get caught in things.

The posters on the wall were all of a team of women on broomsticks, singly and in groups. On the biggest were the words "Holyhead Harpies", which Daphne took to be the name of their team. They were playing some sport that involved balls and bats, although they didn't all have bats, and rings way above the ground. As Daphne put her things where Lily told her to, she asked, "What are they playing?"

Lily grinned. "Quidditch. That was Mum's team when she played, the Holyhead Harpies. She said it was more fun than almost anything. 'Cept being a mum, but I don't believe it. Nothing could be more fun than Quidditch."

Daphne could believe it. "Your mum played sports? Like, professionally?"

Daphne had a hard time following Lily's explanation, beyond the fact that, yes, her mum had played professional Quidditch before her big brother, James, was born, and her position had been Chaser. The rules flowed past Daphne, but that wasn't a problem. While Lily talked about Quidditch, Daphne explored the bedroom. Apparently, magic people's photographs all moved. And there was a ball of fluff that looked an awful lot like a tribble from Star Trek that Lily called a puffskein, whose name was Snitch. That had something to do with Quidditch, too. Lily was a year younger than Daphne and she wouldn't be going to Hogwarts for another year, so she went to the local primary school, where she had to be careful not to talk about magic, or Quidditch, or Snitch. It sounded pretty awful to Daphne, but Lily didn't seem to mind.

Once Daphne had finished looking around the room, they headed for the kitchen. On the way, they walked through a lounge that had more photographs. Cousin Harry and Cousin Ginny, who said Daphne should probably just call them Harry and Ginny, or Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny if she insisted on being formal, were showing them to Mum and Daddy. Ginny was holding a photo of a boy, or young man, with a black border around it. "That's Uncle Fred," Lily whispered in her ear. "He died a long time ago, in the War. Don't ask; Daddy doesn't like to talk about it."

"Why?" Daphne asked, whispering back. "Was he hurt badly?"

Lily shrugged. "Some. It's more that a lot of people he knew and liked died. Uncle Fred's the only member of our family who died, but we were really lucky. And Uncle Bill and Uncle George were both scarred, and Daddy was made an orphan, and Mum was kidnapped by a diary and almost killed by a basilisk, and Uncle Ron was poisoned, and Grandpa was bitten by a snake, and Grandma killed an evil lady who was going to kill Mum, and Uncle Percy came back to fight the battle, and Grandma's brothers were both killed in the first one, and . . ."

"And I think it's time to eat," said Aunt Ginny. "You don't need to worry, Daphne. All this happened twenty years ago and it's all over."

That meant there were probably history books. Daphne couldn't wait.

As they ate, and all four boys acted like wild animals, the plan for the rest of the weekend was explained. First thing in the morning, they would go shopping for school at some place called Diagon Alley. Then, on Sunday, they were going to a burrow and having a picnic with Aunt Ginny's family, where they'd get to meet a lot of people who'd either gone to Hogwarts, were going to Hogwarts or would be going to Hogwarts once they got old enough.

Daphne went happily to sleep, looking forward to seeing magical places and getting her new books. Snitch decided to sleep in the bed with her, so everything was perfect. Even without her laptop.

**July 7, 2018**

Meals seemed pretty normal, as long as you didn't watch the washing up too closely. But now they were going to this Diagon Alley, by way of the Floo. Dudley's tension had skyrocketed as soon as that was mentioned, so Sophie thought it was likely something he'd seen when he was growing up. Something that had gone wrong and no one had explained it to him. When she finally got to discuss this with her in-laws, Sophie would have a few things to say to them.

What really worried her was this war. Both Harry and Ginny had insisted that it was over, that there were no remnants of it being fought. Judging from the fact that the children treated it as boring, something to sleep through in history class, Sophie thought that was probably the truth, but it was also obvious that it still affected Harry. She planned on checking out the history section at the bookstore; surely there would be something there.

Breakfast was much like breakfast in her own household, but with owls to bring the post and a magical scrub brush to clean the dishes. The breakfast conversation was a comparison of magical scrub-brushes and dishwashers; the two women concluded that they were pretty even, all things considered.

While helping Ginny to brush everyone clean after they stepped out of the Floo, Sophie wondered if the efficiency and non-existent travel time was worth the soot and falls associated with magical travel. Watching Harry complain as he fell out of the fireplace on the other end made her wonder why they didn't just drive.

The entrance to Diagon Alley turned out to be behind the Leaky Cauldron. Someone magical had to open it; Dudley and Sophie would never be able to go there on their own. Harry tapped a couple of the bricks and the wall opened up onto the alley.

The rest of the morning turned into a blur for Sophie. Harry and Ginny were clearly old hands and moved them along quickly and efficiently. It took a bit for Sophie to realise the main reason they were doing so; whenever they stopped for more than a minute, people began coming up to Harry, shaking his hand, and thanking him for everything he'd done. What he'd done was never explicitly stated, although one old man thanked him for "making our world safe for my grandchildren". It made Sophie wonder. Until now, considering how little Dudley knew, she'd assumed that Harry had been part of the fight, but no more important than would be expected for a teenager. As she watched the people watch Harry, even when they didn't approach him, and the practiced way he greeted and thanked them, Sophie began to think that whatever it was that Harry had done was a little more than simply fighting in their war.

Their second to last stop was the bookstore. While the others went looking for the necessary schoolbooks, Sophie went for the history books. To her surprise, not only were there quite a few about the war, but there were several specifically about Harry. She pulled out the two general books that looked to be the most complete and tried to decide which of the biographies she should get. As she was trying to determine which was the best from the front flap material, a man walked up to her and asked, "Need some help?"

Sophie looked up, a bit startled; she hadn't heard him. He was about her age, tall and slender with pale blond hair, grey eyes and a pointed chin. "Just trying to decide which of these to buy. Do you have any suggestions? And you are?"

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. And I'm probably not the best person to ask for the best biography of the Boy Who Lived, Ms.--?"

"Sophie Dursley," she said, holding out her hand to shake. "I was looking for some information on Harry Potter. Is he really called the Boy Who Lived?"

"Only in the newspapers. Malfoy," Harry said, walking up behind her. He looked at the books she was browsing and winced. "This is the best of the histories," he said with a sigh, handing one of the history books she'd chosen, "and I'd go with this one to supplement it." He pulled another book off the shelf that Sophie had discarded as she hadn't been able to determine what it was about. "And I promise you, Daphne will be perfectly safe; the war is over."

Before Sophie could say anything, Mr. Malfoy said, "It sounds as if Mrs. Dursley would like to make sure of that herself. Daphne is your daughter?" he asked Sophie. "I had a Daphne Dursley on my list of Muggleborn first years, but she was crossed off."

"Dudley is my cousin," Harry said, his voice tight. "He was more comfortable having me explain things than a total stranger."

"Of course," Mr. Malfoy drawled. "I've compiled a reading list for first year Muggleborns and their parents; it's designed to help explain the Wizarding world and allow the children to fit in better once they begin attending Hogwarts. May I send it to you?"

"Yes," Sophie said, wishing that one of them would step away. The tension between the two men was giving her a headache.

"May I ask why you've compiled the list? You don't know anything about Muggles or what they do and don't know." Harry was glaring at the other man.

"I know more than you might think," Mr. Malfoy said. His posture was relaxed but his voice was almost as tight as Harry's. "I've been helping Muggleborns get used to the Wizarding world since I was eighteen. Oh, and I would recommend this one for the biography. It's on the reading list." He pointed to one of the books she'd been looking at, _The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Defeater of Voldemort: And All Without His NEWTs_. He turned and walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Harry sighed heavily. Then he looked at Sophie with a rueful smile. "Sorry about that. We hated each other in school and I've hardly seen him at all since then. You know, I'll answer any questions you have; really, I will."

"Yes," Sophie said, although she had her doubts, "but I don't know what questions to ask. Dudley might have a better idea, but--"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but it's all tied up with all the stuff we're carefully not discussing. Dudley now's not a bad bloke. I can see spending a pleasant evening in a pub with him. Back then, well, his favourite game was Harry Hunting. It makes some discussions tough."

"So, I'll read this book and then I'll know what questions to ask," Sophie said. "Do people really call you these things?"

With a sigh, Harry shrugged. "Not so much any more. Twenty years ago, well, even then it was mostly the newspapers. As for why I was in the newspapers . . . Merlin, I hate talking about this stuff. It makes me sound so, so, arrogant. Why does anybody care?"

"There you are!" Ginny said, turning a corner behind Harry. "What happened? You two look like something happened."

"Malfoy," Harry said. "And Sophie's looking for a little light reading." He suddenly turned to Sophie. "Are you related to the Grangers?"

The non sequitor surprised Sophie. "Who?"

"One of my sisters-in-law," Ginny said absently. "What kind of books were you looking at?" Then she saw the books Sophie was holding. "Oh. Tomorrow, ask my mother about Harry. She'll tell you everything you could possibly want to know and then some. Come on; the kids are dying to get to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

Ginny's brothers' shop was everything a teen or preteen could want in a joke shop. It was bright, loud and filled with jokes that were, as a friend had once put it, "rude, crude and socially unacceptable". Rich was frustrated that he wouldn't be able to show most of the jokes to his friends since they relied on magic; Sophie made herself a note to check his bags when they got home in case of smuggling. Then she realised she'd have to check all three of the kids. And maybe Dudley as well.

As they sat at an ice cream parlour once they'd finished their shopping, Sophie looked at her family. Daphne's eyes were bright and she was chattering away to anyone who would listen to her. She'd pulled out her wand and was waving it around, despite the lectures on wand safety that both Harry and Ginny had given her. Other people noticing her smiled; they seemed to be both amused and nostalgic. Tom was chattering at Albus at a million miles a minute; Albus was being kind enough to allow it. Rich and James were quiet and seemed to be casually checking out the pretty girls. Casually for young teens, anyway.

Sophie leaned over to Dudley. "They all look happy, don't they?"

He nodded, his eyes still a little shadowed. "I was talking to the lady at the book shop; she said there was to be a Hogwarts tour for all the first years and their families in two weeks. I signed us up. I, I can't just let her go without--"

Harry leaned over. "What's this about a tour?"

"Yeah, they were saying at Flourish and Blott's that they were trying to ease the first years in a bit more than is traditional," Ginny said, leaning over. "There's a tour, a shopping day at Diagon Alley, and maybe even a Quidditch match, although that's still open. Some of the old biddies are complaining about how 'It's not traditional,' but I think it's great. Especially for the Muggleborns. Hermione still complains about how scary it was to start without knowing anything."

"Hermione knew plenty," Harry said with a laugh. "She'd memorised all her textbooks and was working on _Hogwarts: A History_ by the time we got on the Hogwarts Express."

Daphne's eyes were huge. "Really. Should I start on mine?"

"I don't believe that," said Sophie as Harry said, "Absolutely not." When Sophie indicated he should continue, Harry said, "Hermione did that for her own peace of mind. I'd skimmed a few of mine, but I hardly knew anything when I started. And you'll get yourself a reputation if you do memorise them."

"It didn't hurt Hermione any," Ginny said.

"I'm not so sure about that," Harry argued. "If it hadn't been for the troll--"

"There's trolls?" Daphne asked, looking enraptured. "Are they nice?"

"No," Harry said. "Fortunately, you very, very rarely see them around people. This one had been lured there to be a distraction. We got very lucky."

"No trolls. Got it," Daphne said, a smile back on her face. "And I don't have to memorise the books, but reading them over's a good idea. Right?"

"Right," Ginny said, standing up. "Why don't we head back to the house and relax for the rest of the evening?"

Everyone seemed agreeable to that idea. Once home, the two girls set themselves up on the living room floor. Daphne was reading her new textbooks and Lily was reading Daphne's fantasy novels. The boys went upstairs, from which bangs and thumps came for the rest of the day. "We have a ward that lets us know if they've done anything dangerous or destructive," Ginny told Sophie when she was starting to go up to check on them after one particularly long bang followed by silence. "Mum gave it to me when I was carrying James. We've found they cause less trouble when we don't look over their shoulders. Harry'll go up for something in a few minutes and look in on them then."

"Hell with that," said Harry. "It sounds like they're having fun; I'm going to go up and join them. How about you, Dudley?"

Once they'd straightened up a bit, Ginny indicated the girls. "Shall we join them?" Sophie was agreeable; she wanted to know what questions to ask.

Sophie read the biography first. She started off writing notes as she read, but it wasn't too long before she was just reading. It was gripping reading, if you could forget that the child she was reading about was real. She finished late in the afternoon and put the book aside.

She'd been so absorbed that she hadn't noticed that the girls had left and that Harry was now sitting in the "Dad" chair. He was glancing through some papers, but looked up at her when she put the book down. "What did you think?"

Sophie had no idea how to respond to his wry question. "How can you be so normal?" was what came out, to her dismay.

Fortunately, Harry chuckled. "It's down to frame of reference," he said, settling back. "Reading it like that, as an adult, knowing what's normal for most kids, it probably does sound pretty horrible. I haven't read it, by the way; I've not read any of the biographies. It feels weird, reading about myself that way. Anyway, it was just my life. Kids don't get a choice in who raises them and how and," Harry paused, seeming to struggle for words. "People also go on about what a hero I was, but I never saw any real alternatives. Not without changing who I was, who I am. Even--" Harry shook his head. "Sometimes it was hard, but it was the right thing to do. So I did it."

Sophie stared at him. Some of the things he'd done were truly heroic, difficult decisions that most people could never make, and this pleasant, unassuming man said it was just what he had to do? She couldn't get her head around it. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but not that Dudley's cousin, who didn't get along with his parents and never came to family gatherings, was one of the two, maybe three, key figures in a war. And, now, his life felt unnaturally normal. That actually made sense to her; after the events of his childhood, she could see how he would want a "normal" life.

"Daphne's going to have problems at Hogwarts, isn't she?" she finally asked. "It's pretty clear that people know how Dudley and his parents treated you."

"We're working on that," Harry said with a shrug. "I've been talking to everyone at work, as has Ginny, about what a nice guy Dudley grew up into. Once they meet him, Ron and Hermione will work on that, too."

"They're pretty protective of you, huh?" Sophie asked. It was clear from her reading that the relationship between Harry, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger was unusually tight. She wondered idly if Hermione Granger and Ginny's sister-in-law were the same person; it seemed possible.

"You have no idea," Harry said, chuckling. "Then, I sat James and Al down and explained things: both what happened when Dud and I were kids and what's going on now. They've been charged with keeping an eye on her and treating her just as they would a little sister. They'll probably tease her unmercifully, but they'll keep anyone else from doing so. And again, after tomorrow, the rest of the Weasleys should be doing the same thing. I'm kind of hoping she gets sorted into Gryffindor. The Head, Neville Longbottom, is a good friend of mine; I know he'll keep an eye on her." Harry was smiling fondly when he said, "Well, he would anyway, but he can do a better job if she's in his House. We'll keep her safe; I promise."

"From you, that means something," Sophie said, still having trouble reconciling the man she was getting to know with the one in the book. He seemed too . . . happy. That realisation crystallised what she was feeling. "How were you able to keep going, to not, I don't know, demand the world from everyone?"

Harry grinned. "I already had what was most important to me. And, because I never tried for it, I also had as much power, as much wealth, and more fame than I ever wanted. I'm perfectly happy not living on a grand scale. Now," he asked as he stood, "how does some food sound? Ginny's throwing a couple of salads together, and Dudley's burning some meat on the grill."

Sophie grinned. Dudley was nearly a gourmet cook as long as it involved the grill. "Sounds good."

**July 8, 2018**

Dudley woke Sunday morning to Sophie shaking his shoulder. "Wha'?" he mumbled, burrowing more deeply into the bed.

"Get up!" his wife said, sternly. "You need to get up and get moving or we'll miss church."

"Harry never went to church," Dudley grumbled as he disentangled himself from the covers.

"Your parents never went to church," Sophie said, getting dressed now that she was sure Dudley was getting up. "It doesn't matter; we're all going this morning."

"Good thing we brought nice clothes," Dudley said, fumbling his dressing gown on to go and shave.

"Yes, it's a good thing I know how to pack. Now, get moving."

Breakfast wasn't as rushed as Dudley had expected from Sophie's rushing; apparently, she'd given him plenty of time. To Dudley's surprise, Harry made it. "Wouldn't have thought you'd ever cook after . . ." he muttered.

Harry grinned at him. "Knowing I can eat as much as I want, and snitch bits as I'm cooking, makes all the difference. I enjoy cooking these days."

Ginny snitched a piece of bacon, for which Harry smacked her hand. He then apologized with a kiss. "Get a room!" their eldest, James, yelled.

Harry stuck out his tongue. "I got the house, so there!"

Ginny smacked his bum. "Behave yourself!"

The light-hearted banter continued as they left the house. "The church is just a little ways away," Harry told him. "We always walk unless the weather's really bad."

"Plus this way we don't put the whole town at risk of Harry's driving," Ginny said, laughing.

"I'm not that bad," Harry said.

Dudley sidled up to him. "Is this a . . . one of our churches or one of yours?"

Shaking his head, Harry said with a laugh, "There's really no difference, but there's both Muggles and wizards in the congregation, so magic never gets mentioned. Don't worry; you'll be fine."

To Dudley's relief, Harry was right. The service was just like the one at home. Neither Harry nor Ginny seemed to be much involved in the church's activities, but they were very well known. Dudley found himself introduced to a lot of people. Unlike yesterday, when Harry had seemed ill at ease with all the attention he attracted, he seemed comfortable with it this morning. When Dudley whispered the question, Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I know the people here; it's not just because of Voldemort and stuff. Here, I'm mostly answering questions about the kids."

Dudley nodded. He understood that; he could talk all day about his kids easily.

As they walked home, James suddenly stopped, turned and walked down another street. "James," Harry called. "C'mon; we're going to the Burrow."

"I think they should see it," James said. Dudley recognized the sound in his voice; it was the same Harry would get when he'd finally dug in his heels and refused to move.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. "I think it'd be good," she said. "You don't have to come."

Harry's sigh sounded as if it came from beneath the sidewalk. "No, you're right and I'll come."

They were walking through the main square, right toward a war memorial. Then, Daphne gasped. "Daddy, did you see that?"

Dudley looked over at Sophie, who shook her head. Apparently, you had to be magical to see the whatever-it-was that James wanted them to see. Before he could say anything, Daphne grabbed his hand to pull him towards it. With a shock, Dudley watched the memorial change into a statue, a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses who looked a lot like Harry, a pretty woman with long hair and a kind face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. The Wizarding world's war memorial, he supposed, or one of them. It left him with an ache in his throat; this would have been Harry's family before his parents had died, before he'd been given to the Dursleys, when he was still . . . He looked away.

Sophie had taken Tom's hand and was looking at the statue gravely, and Rich, Ginny's hand on his arm, just looked uncomfortable. After a few minutes, James looked at Dudley, solemn as only a teenager could manage. "I thought you lot needed to see it. We're going to the Burrow, which is great, but we should have had two sets of grandparents. They were heroes, and I sometimes think they get forgotten." Then he looked over at his father a little sheepishly. "Not you, Dad. I mean, in general."

"'S'okay," Harry said, his voice tight. "But we've seen it now. Let's go on."

The adults walked home slowly, but Harry's kids were racing. "What's so exciting about going to your grandparents?" Tom finally asked when Al tried to hurry him along for the fifth time.

"Don't you like going to yours?" Al asked, sounding incredulous. "Gran and Grandpa are great! And all the uncles'll be there, and aunts, and cousins. Is it true," he asked Ginny, bouncing, "that Uncle Charlie's going to be there?"

"That's what I've heard," Ginny answered, sounding amused.

"My parents are a bit older," Sophie said, explaining, "and Dudley's are, well--"

"Don't worry; I understand perfectly," Harry said. Unfortunately, Dudley knew he did.

Once home, Harry's kids raced upstairs to get changed; Dudley's had begun to pick up the excitement and were moving almost as quickly. "We'd better make it quick ourselves," Ginny said, laughing. "They'll bounce the house off its foundations if we make them wait too long."

All too quickly, they were ready to go. This was vastly different from going to Diagon Alley yesterday; Dudley could pretend it was one of those fairs where people dressed up as lords and ladies from long ago. It was also different from the year he and his parents had spent in hiding. There hadn't been any electricity, and those things they were used to using electricity for were done by magic, but they hadn't been doing anything flashy, anything "abnormal". And the fear of what might happen if they were found had drained all excitement from what was going on around them; it had been a horribly grim year.

Harry's in-laws, though, were used to using magic for everything and, when they were kids, at least, they'd used magic to play pranks and such. Dudley had admired the joke shop yesterday--it had clearly been a thriving, professionally-run business. He could still remember that candy, though, and that made him nervous.

They took another Floo trip to get to Ginny's family's home, the Burrow. As he came out the other side, spitting ashes again, Dudley asked, "I know they have cars in your world, Harry; they even fly. Why can't we take one of those?"

"That car!" a woman's voice snapped. "Fortunately it was confiscated, or I'd, I'd--"

"Hi, Mum," Harry said, laughing. "Dudley had never seen anything fly before, except airplanes. Speaking of which, this is my cousin, Dudley Dursley, his wife, Sophie, and their children, Rich, Daphne and Tom. And this is my mother-in-law, Molly Weasley."

Molly Weasley was a short, plump woman, with fading red hair, and a kind smile. "Welcome, we're so pleased you could come. Make yourselves at home; you can see we don't stand on ceremony here--"

"What ceremony are we not standing on now?" asked a man who had just walked in to the house. He was tall, with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a discrete earring, and horrible scars on his face.

"Any of them," Ginny said. "Hey, there, what did you bring?" Dudley hadn't noticed the dish and large pot Ginny had brought with her.

"Lamb," the man said, laughing. "What else?"

"Oh, you," Molly said, swatting at him. "This is my oldest, Bill. Everyone else is out back in the garden. Come on back. The younger ones can play Quidditch while we adults talk." She started to lead the way through the kitchen when she suddenly stopped. "Oh, no," she said, looking dismayed, "I don't know if broomsticks work for Muggles. Which of you two--?"

Dudley was proud of his oldest. Rich leaned over and hugged Molly, and said, "If I'd been meant to fly, I'd have wings. It sounds like fun to watch, but I like both my feet on the ground."

Molly hugged him back, and then held him out at arm's length. "And you're?"

"Rich," Rich answered.

"And a very sensible boy you are," she said. "Don't you worry, someone will explain all the rules to you." She put her arm around Rich and led them out into the garden.

Dudley looked around curiously. This was one of the two places Harry had looked forward to going when he was at school; the other was Hogwarts. Somehow, Dudley was expecting something grander, nicer than his parents' house. Even knowing how Harry had been treated, Dudley wouldn't have expected Harry to want to go to anyplace that wasn't as nice.

The reality was a slap in the face. There were signs that the house had been improved upon over the last several years, but it was an older home, and a bit on the shabby side. Clean, comfortable, inviting--it was all of those things, but his parents' house had been nicer. It was clear to Dudley that Harry had felt welcome here. To Dudley's shame, he suspected that Harry would have preferred a hovel, someplace filthy and horrible, if he were only made welcome. A lump formed in his throat as he was confronted with how he and his family had treated Harry when they were younger.

He'd stopped for too long; Molly had returned and put her hand on his arm. "Dudley? Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said, hating the hoarseness in his voice. "It's kind of hard, realising what a prat I was." He looked at her, aware that his cheeks were red. "I'm glad you and your family took Harry in. We . . ." He couldn't continue.

Her lips pursed for a moment, but then she smiled. "It was our pleasure," she said warmly. "Harry was such a sweet boy. And we were all happy when he joined the family officially."

Dudley asked a question that had been worrying him. "Daphne. I don't want her . . . Harry seems to be so famous. If people know about us . . ."

Molly sighed. "Well, people do know about Harry's childhood, I'm afraid. That was one of the reasons he wanted Daphne to come here and get to know the other kids. He wanted to make sure that the Weasleys, at least, knew what kind of a person Daphne herself was, not what kind of people her grandparents are. Harry's never been one to judge a child based on his or her parents."

Wishing she'd turn that scrutiny elsewhere, Dudley dredged up a smile. "Just like I told Tom. He's a better person than we were. I've tried . . ."

"Well, it looks to me like you succeeded," she said. "They seem like such nice, well brought up youngsters."

"More Sophie's doing than mine," Dudley admitted.

"I doubt that." She smiled and took his arm. "Shall we go out and enjoy the sunshine?"

Once outside, Dudley felt more than a little overwhelmed. It felt as if there were as many people in the Weasley's back garden as there had been in Diagon Alley the day before. Today, however, more than half of the people had red hair, and they all knew one another. As they approached the group of adults sitting and watching the children play, Dudley noticed that all of the adults weren't there. "Where's Harry and Ginny?" he asked Sophie. She looked comfortable, as if she'd fitted right in. She probably had, Dudley knew; she had that knack.

"Harry and Ginny don't seem to be able to resist a call to Quidditch," Sophie told him. "At the moment it's parents against kids. The parents are winning, but I think that's because they're cheating."

"Hmph," said one of the men Dudley didn't think he'd ever met. He was as tall as the man from the kitchen, but his red hair was short, he wore spectacles, and even his casual clothes had a stuffy feel to them. "They're just better fliers than the children," he said, his voice prim and precise. "Experience tells. I'm Percy, by the way. Son Number Three. I think Bill said you met, sort of, in the kitchen." Bill was being given a scolding look; Dudley thought it was because he hadn't properly introduced himself. "He's the eldest of us. The other four, Charlie, George, Ron and Ginny are on brooms. And the ladies . . ."

"Relax a bit, would you, Percy?" laughed a familiar-looking woman. She had bushy brown hair, ink-stained fingers and kind brown eyes. "Since Percy's introduced the Weasleys, I'll do the spouses, shall I?" Not waiting for Percy to object, she said, "You know Ginny's husband, Harry, of course. I'm Ron's wife, Hermione. I think you saw me at King's Cross a few times; I was usually with Harry when your family picked him up." Dudley nodded; she was probably right. "George's wife is Angelina; she's playing Quidditch as well. Percy's wife is Audrey," a woman with rosy cheeks and a brown plait down her back nodded, "Charlie's not married and Bill's wife is Fleur, who's . . . Where did Fleur go?"

"Over 'ere, trying to bring order to ze food. Impossible task, I know." Fleur was an amazingly beautiful woman, with long silver hair and bright blue eyes. She was holding a little boy on her hip, who was babbling at her. "And you are Dudley, yes?" she asked, holding out her hand. Although Dudley shook it, he suspected she'd expected him to kiss it. "You 'ave ze misfortune of trying to remember all our names, while we only 'ave the few to remember. But don't worry; we're all used to it. Who is winning?"

"The parents, thanks heavens, or the kids would be insufferable." An older man walked over. Dudley definitely remembered him. Mr. Weasley, the man who'd blown up the fireplace, unshrunk his tongue and insisted that Dad had said good-bye to Harry that one year. The years had been good to him, if not to his hair; he was now completely bald. "Hallo, Dudley. Nice to meet you again. Now, which one is going to Hogwarts next year?"

"Our little girl," Dudley said, trying to pick her out from the gang of children. She clearly wasn't in the group of people on broomsticks. It took a minute, but he did finally spot her, in a group clustered around watching the match. "There, the little blonde."

Arthur looked for a few minutes and then smiled. "There she is. Pretty little thing, and it looks like she's fitting right in."

They settled into chairs and, within a surprisingly short amount of time, Dudley felt as he did at any get-together with good company. Although Dudley didn't know the Wizarding world's political issues, they sounded much the same as they did in his world. Today, however, was a day for discussing the children, and Hogwarts, and Quidditch. Children with scraped knees came begging for Mummy's kisses and a charm to stop the bleeding; other children came complaining about siblings, or cousins, or were a little confused as to which was which.

Sophie was in her element. Although the Weasley family was larger than her own, both families were large and close-knit. She'd settled in with Molly and Hermione for a good long chat about Harry's school days and war days. Dudley, on the other hand, found himself answering the weirdest questions he'd ever heard. Arthur and Percy had been having an argument about plugs and expected him to settle it. He did the best he could, but what he mostly knew about plugs was that you plugged them into the wall to get the whatever-it-is to work. Eventually, out of sheer desperation, he looked over at Sophie. "Soph, would you mind having Arthur, and Molly of course, over for an afternoon sometime soon? Maybe next weekend?"

"Not at all," Sophie answered, just as Molly said, "Arthur, stop pestering the poor man!"

"He's not pestering," Dudley said, defending Arthur. Dudley had come to the realisation that, regardless of how terrifying he had found the older man when he was a child, Arthur was the mildest and gentlest of men. "I just can't answer his questions, and I thought it might be easier to show him."

"Show who what?" Harry asked. Dudley hadn't noticed the Quidditch match ending. He looked up and realised that it hadn't; the teams had just changed. It now appeared to be Boys vs. Girls.

"Arthur about electricity and such," Dudley answered. "Who won your game? And who's going to win this one."

"We won, of course," answered another man. Not as tall as Arthur or Bill, missing an ear, and a face Dudley still sometimes had nightmares about. "As for that one, it'll be the girls"

"Good luck, Dudley," Hermione said, laughing and shaking her head. "My parents have tried at least a dozen times; it never quite seems to take." She stood and kissed Arthur on the cheek. "I haven't seen Hugo for a bit; think I'd better check on him."

Harry plopped down into her chair. "Enjoying yourselves? Your kids sure are. Rich is learning Exploding Snap and Daphne's begging for a try on a broom. Hope you don't mind; it's better she start with some adult supervision or she'll be sneaking it."

"Er, Exploding Snap won't hurt him or anything, right?" Dudley asked, visions of Aunt Marge in his head.

Harry grinned. "Only his eyebrows."

Sophie leaned over. "You killed a basilisk? At twelve? And nearly died? Where were the teachers?"

Looking as if he were about to face a firing squad, Harry asked, "Mum, what have you been telling her?"

"All the times you've saved our family," Molly answered. "Directly, that is. And about helping you onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters your first year."

Harry smiled fondly. "Yeah, that was brilliant. And Ron and I shared a compartment. We were best friends by lunchtime."

"Only because you shared your candy with him," Hermione said, returning with a dirty, squirming, little boy. "I'll be back as soon as I sort this one out."

"So, he saved Ginny's life her first year, Arthur's his fifth, Ron's his sixth--" Molly continued, to Harry's evident discomfort.

"Don't forget his giving us the money to start our shop," said the earless man, whose name Dudley couldn't remember and wouldn't ask, thumping Harry so hard on the back he fell out of his chair.

When Harry got up from the ground, his face was bright red. "Let's talk about Charlie, yeah?" he said, sounding tired. "He's not here, and his life is a lot more interesting than mine."

Molly took mercy on Harry and switched the subject, although she gave Sophie a wink that Dudley thought meant they'd be continuing the subject later, out of Harry's earshot.

When the sun set, Dudley caught Harry's eye. He smiled and nodded and began gathering his family together. Dudley went looking for his kids. He found Rich and James together, as they'd been for most of the weekend. At the moment they appeared to be seeing which of them could do a better job of grossing out the girls. Daphne was in the midst of a group of girls, exchanging addresses, recommended books, and packing tips.

Tom was the hardest to find. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Dudley found him at least thirty feet in the air at the top of a tree that Dudley didn't think he could climb. "Tom! Stay there; I'll get help!"

"Don't worry, Dad," Tom called down and appeared to fall out of the tree. Dudley screamed and went running to try to catch his youngest son when he realised the boy wasn't falling, but flying. On a broom!

Once Tom landed, as neatly as if he'd been doing it all his life, Dudley noted distantly, Dudley grabbed his son's ear and dragged him back towards the house. "And if you think I'm ever buying you a broom, you have another think coming, young man!" he shouted.

"What did he do?" Molly asked, looking worried.

"He was in the top of that tree!" Dudley said, pointing to it. "Nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Flew up, eh?" Molly asked, her face growing stern. "Was anyone with you?"

As he hadn't when Dudley had been scolding him, Tom's body slumped in shame. "No, ma'am."

"Well, then," Molly said, "the next time you come to visit, the first thing you do will be to thoroughly de-gnome the garden; do you understand me, young man?"

Tom nodded and slunk away. Once his back was turned, Molly gave Dudley a wink. "Every one of mine have wound up in that tree. Ginny used to practically live in it. Sorry he gave you such a turn; I usually keep an eye on it."

"I don't think Tom will be doing that again," Sophie said, as she walked up with all three children. Harry, Ginny and their three were right behind her. "Molly, thank you all for inviting us. It's been a wonderful day."

The children all nodded and added their thanks. They Flooed back to Harry's, who set up a Portkey to take them home.

As Dudley collapsed into bed that night, the foremost thought in his head was that he'd been a fool to reject Harry when they were kids. He could have had such fun!

**Author's Note: **This will be a full "year at Hogwarts" story. Updates will come as often as RL, my time and energy levels will allow—probably more slowly than I would like.


	3. Week 2

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Beta'ed by Muggle Prof.

**July 9,**** 2008**

_Dear Daphne,_

_How are you? I hope you and your parents are OK. (I'm not sure about the boys. Their boys.)_

_I really liked having you visit this weekend. I hope you can come visit again._

_I hope you get to go to Hogwarts. I wish I could go. If you do go, promise you'll write me. It gets very lonely and boring around here and Mum and Daddy make me behave more._

_You wanted to read about Wizarding etiquette (and I looked it up so I know its right.) I don't know if this book will help, but its really old so maybe it won't._

_James turned Albus's hair green when he wouldn't answer unless he called him Asp. Mum made him turn it back. Daddy said he thought Al'd want it green. Al said he only wants it green when he's cheering Quidditch. He wants to play Seeker this year and Daddy said he can if he can get on the team. Scorpius wants to play Seeker to so who knows?_

_Nothing else has happened since yesterday so I'll end now._

_Your second cousin,_

_Lily_

**July 10,**** 2018**

_Dear Daphne,_

_After you left, I realised I'd forgotten to tell you that you can write me with any questions you have, about Hogwarts or the Wizarding world or whatever._

_Mum said that your parents have invited Gran and Grampa to your house on Saturday. Be patient with Grampa; he's very sweet but doesn't quite get Muggle stuff no matter how much he likes it. Just don't let him touch anything you don't want broken and you'll be fine._

_I'm writing one of my best friends, Scorpius, about you. My other best friend is Asp, who you met this weekend. You probably don't realise that you met him. Asp is what Scorpius and I and the other Slytherins call Albus; it's his initials. James used to tease him so Asp decided he'd take ownership of it. (That's what Mum calls it; Daddy calls it showing James he can't hurt him. I think they're both saying the same thing.)_

_I know everybody told you Saturday and Sunday that Gryffindor is the best house ever and that Potters and Weasleys are Gryffindors, but you may have noticed that they didn't say that ALL Potters and Weasleys are Gryffindors. They can't, you see, because Asp and I were both Sorted into Slytherin. (We had our reasons.) The point I'm making is that it doesn't matter which house you're in; you just want to be where you can be you. From what I saw on Sunday, I suspect that's Ravenclaw, but I could be wrong. Still, don't let the Gryffindors brainwash you; you'll be fine wherever._

_There's not much else to tell you. Hugo's been forbidden to fly for a week because Mum caught him playing with birds' nests. Otherwise, it's quiet here._

_Please write back._

_Rose Weasley_

_Dear Asp,_

_Don't forget about your homework; the summer will be gone before you know it. It's been a week; you should have at least one of the assignments done by now. I have the Charms and Transfigurations done; I'm going to spend this week on Potions and Herbology. If you want to work with me, let me know. I won't do it for you, though, so don't ask._

_And write your cousin. Daphne, I mean. I can't imagine what it's like for her. Not just finding out she's magical, but that she's got all this other family she never knew about. It would be nice if we all made an effort to write her and make her feel comfortable._

_Rose_

_Dear Scorpius,_

_How is your summer so far? Have your parents made any plans to travel? I know you were hoping they would. That would be so cool. I'd love to see all the different places you have._

_Have you started on your homework? I have more hope that you have than Asp. I have the Charms and Transfigurations essays done. This week I intend on doing the Potions and Herbology homework._

_Do you think we can get together sometime this summer? You wouldn't think, with all my cousins, but it gets kind of lonely here in the summer. At least, this summer._

_Now, for my real news. You've heard about Uncle Harry's cousin, right? The one he grew up with, whose parents kept him in a cupboard! and put bars on his windows and all. Well, he grew up a lot nicer than you'd think with parents like that and he has two magical kids. Tom, the younger one, won't be starting until year after next, with Hugo, but Daphne will be a first year this year. That is if she comes. Her parents still seem a little sceptical. They're going on the tour your father's giving next week, so maybe that'll convince them. If it doesn't, we may have to put our heads together and come up with a way to get her there. She's really nice, and really smart, and knows about all kinds of Muggle things to help her learn things. I think she'd be able to be a lot of help at keeping James and Fred in line. I really want her to come. She's nice!_

_Well, that's about it for now. Hugo's being a boy, a brat and a bother, so I'm ignoring him. He says, "Good!" but it won't last._

_Take care, stay well, and write me back,_

_Rose Weasley_

**July 11,**** 2018**

_Dear Asp,_

_I swear that cousin of yours will drive us both mad. Summer holidays have barely begun and she's already pestering us (at least she's pestering me) about homework! I'm sending her a note telling her that of course I've started on my homework and I'd advise you to do the same. (I actually have read the Potions material as I want to make sure Father has time to help me. He really is brilliant at it.)_

_What's this about a new second cousin who may be going to school with us in the fall? As usual, Rose only covered the highlights, but if I'm expected to befriend this relative, I'd like to know a bit more about her. Like do you want me to befriend her? (Rose seems to have done so, but she seems to have inherited her mother's championing of the less-fortunate of the world in addition to her brains.)_

_Father asked me to confirm with your father that the appointment he's requested is only about the tour; there are no ulterior motives. I'm trying to get him to ask if you can spend some time here this summer. Otherwise, the only people my age I'll get to see will be my cousins, and they're boring. I asked about Rose, too, but Mother said that would be entirely inappropriate unless the cousins are here as well. I explained that, although she's female, she's not a girl, but neither Mother nor Father were impressed. __(Actually, they both spent several minutes laughing, but let's not say any more about that.)_

_Don't forget; just because your mother was a professional Quidditch player doesn't mean you'll be automatically on the Quidditch team this year. She was a Chaser and our fathers were evenly matched as Seekers. I'm spending as much time practicing as I can; Father even got me a special training Snitch, so be ready for the best man (ME) to win._

_I hope your summer is well. Give my regards to your family (except the git you're forced to call a brother, of course)._

_Scorpius_

_Scorpius,_

_I just look at her when she starts nagging. I don't read those parts of her letters. It drives her spare. The whole cousin thing is confusing because the grown-ups won't discuss it. Dad just shrugged and said they'd all grown up and not to worry about it. (He says the same thing about your Dad when I ask.) She's OK for a girl. She spent most of the weekend with Lily giggling like a maniac, but she and Rose hit it off as well. She thinks Daphne'll be a Ravenclaw, which isn't so bad. __She's kind of p-_

_Dad didn't ask about the tour, but he said, "Thanks" when I told him what you said, so that's all sorted. It'd be brilliant if I could spend some time with you; The Git is being annoying again. He wasn't too bad when the Dursleys were over, but that's because he spent the whole time with Rich. They're the same age. There's a younger brother, too, but he's even younger than Lily. I asked Mum and Dad about your coming to visit and Dad said we'd discuss it after the meeting. Or the tour. (He says your Dad's OK, now, but I don't think he likes him much. Ask him to be extra polite tomorrow.)_

_I am so going to beat you in the try-outs this year. You know I'm the better flier, and I never miss the Snitch. I can even beat Dad __some__ most of the time. Prepare to lose!_

_Asp_

**July 12, 2018**

The private dining room the maitre d' of The Gentlemen's Club had led Harry and Ron to was small and more luxurious than the rest of the restaurant. Harry was amused at Ron, who looked impressed in spite of himself. The maitre d' asked Harry and Ron for their drink orders and left, closing the door behind him.

Draco Malfoy had arrived first and was sitting at the table with a glass of what appeared to be wine. He looked comfortable and as if he belonged here. As Harry and Ron walked in, Malfoy stood and extended his hand. "Thank you for coming, gentlemen," he said as he shook their hands.

Ron snorted. "So, what was so important that you asked us to come here? Or is this the next step in Rose's corruption?"

Malfoy looked shocked. "Why would I want to corrupt Rose," he asked, "or allow Scorpius to do so? From what he tells me, she's a lovely girl."

"So, if it isn't to do with Rose, what is it?" Harry was a little amused at Ron's continued distrust of this meeting. From what Al had told him, Scorpius was a good friend and student. James had a different idea, but that probably had something to do with the fact that Scorpius helped Al avoid James's pranks and helped successfully prank James back. Ron had refused to listen to anything Harry had had to say on the matter; the feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys was too deep and too old for Ron.

Malfoy stayed remarkably calm in the face of Ron's distrust. "I can't say it's not at all about Rose," he said. He turned and looked at a painting as he continued, "That's not the main reason, but I hoped . . . " He shook his head. "Look, Scorpius hasn't said so, but I can tell that he likes Rose as more than just a friend. I don't want to see them play out Romeo and Juliet when they get a little older."

"What?" Ron asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Romeo and Juliet is an old play. In it, the children of two feuding houses meet, fall in love and, when they can't be together, kill themselves. I'd prefer to call a truce, or an end, to our feud before Scorpius decides to play Romeo to Rose's Juliet." When Ron didn't say anything, he sighed. "Never mind. The reason I asked you to meet me here is that I need some help. Potter, you know about the tour I'm leading next weekend, right?"

"I know that you're leading one," Harry said, sitting down. "I still haven't figured out why you're leading it."

Malfoy nodded. "After you killed the Dark Lord, I asked to return to Hogwarts, to finish my seventh year and take my N.E.W.T.S. Headmistress McGonagall said that I could, but with a condition. I had to help all the Muggleborn students, especially those who'd been hurt by . . . Death Eaters. It was . . . not what I expected. I'd always been taught that Muggleborn wizards and witches were intent on corrupting our world, taking over, pushing aside the purebloods. Imagine my surprise when I found that, for most of them, our world was just a new and different one in which they finally had a chance to fit in." He took a drink of his wine. "After I finished my N.E.W.T.S, I decided to keep helping. I started with the people I'd met at Hogwarts that year, but I kept finding more things that needed to be done. Three years ago, I convinced the new Headmaster, Pernell Higginbotham, to allow me to meet and inform the families of the new first-year Muggleborn students about Hogwarts and help them with the transition from the Muggle world to the Wizarding one.

"The tour came from that. One thing I've heard over and over again is how uncomfortable the parents are, sending their children to a school they've never seen." Malfoy's smile looked rueful. "I have to admit that, when I was younger, that didn't make sense to me. Why would sending your child to the best Wizarding school make you uncomfortable? Then Scorpius was born."

Harry chuckled. "Amazing how much parenthood changes your perspective, huh?"

Ron grimaced, presumably at agreeing with Malfoy. "Yeah, Hermione's parents have talked about how hard it was to send her there. But I thought Muggles couldn't get to Hogwarts."

Malfoy sat a little straighter. "Not exactly. They can't find it on their own; however, if a witch or wizard takes them there, they can see it. That part'll work out."

Before Harry could ask his own questions, Ron said, his voice a little far away, "They'd love to see it, y'know? They've heard so much about it, and to see their daughter's name as a hero, it'd mean a lot to them."

Malfoy's smile broadened. "That can be worked out. Would you and your wife be willing to come along as well?"

Ron's expression sharpened. "Why?"

Before Malfoy could answer, Harry grinned and said, "Realised it was going to be a bit much? Who else do you have helping?"

Malfoy grimaced. "It hadn't occurred to me until I was assembling the packets to hand out. There are fifteen Muggleborn first-years this year. Of that, fourteen have signed up and I'm working on the fifteenth. Then there are the families. A conservative estimate is fifty people; judging from the sizes of the families I saw, and the comments about bringing this aunt, or this grandma, or . . . There could be close to a hundred people." He shook his head. "I'd planned on it just being me, with the Headmaster giving an introductory speech and introductions to the heads of Houses and as many of the professors as are there. But, keeping track of that many people . . . I'm going to need help. Potter, I'm assuming you'll be there and I was hoping you'd help?"

Harry nodded, but before he could say anything, Ron said, "Why didn't you ask Hermione? She's a Muggleborn herself; she'd be one of the best people you could have helping." The tips of his ears were already red, and the colour was spreading down.

Shrugging, Malfoy said, "Two reasons, neither of them anything against her. The first is that I'm used to working with the men. Generally, if I'm working with a woman, Tori makes the initial overtures, if she doesn't arrange the whole thing. I'd be very uncomfortable asking your wife to a restaurant, or my office, for a private discussion. The second is that, well, her reputation, and yours, is that you'll be the harder one to convince. So, I started with you."

They were both good reasons, Harry acknowledged to himself. The first one would annoy Hermione, but neither would anger Ron. "Ginny and I were both planning on coming and we'd, well, I'd be glad to help. I'll ask her tonight; I don't see why she wouldn't."

Malfoy laughed. "She has you well-trained. What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't say anything for a minute. While waiting for him to think it through, Harry said, "What about the kids?"

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked. "That's what this is all about."

"Not the first years," Harry said. "Our kids. James and Al could both help out on keeping people from getting lost, and I'm sure Scorpius could as well. Judging from the stories I've been getting, those three have been trying to find every nook and cranny of the school."

"Harry!" Ron said with a gasp. "You didn't give the Map to Al, did you? Please tell me you weren't that thick."

As Malfoy asked, "What map?" Harry shook his head. "No, but after the first of their 'adventures', I checked on it, and it's not where I'd left it. The problem is, I haven't looked at it in years. It's more likely that James has it than Al."

Ron relaxed. "Thank Merlin for that. The thought of Rose with that Map . . ."

"It didn't seem to bother you when we were kids," Harry said, amused.

Malfoy looked amused as well. "Since my son may have access to this thing, do you think you could tell me what it is?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. After a minute, Ron shrugged with a grin. "Let's hope it's James who has it. He hangs around with Fred and . . ." Harry and Ron had the same realisation at the same time. "Of course, James has it. And you know George told Fred how to make it work. It's a map created by the Marauders, about twenty years before we went to school, that shows the entire school, where every person is, and other stuff. It was brilliant," he said with a fond smile on his face.

Malfoy's eyes had widened. "No wonder you lot got away with so much. You knew . . . " He shook his head. "Who are these Marauders? They sound like the type of person I'd like to know."

"They're dead," Harry said, hoping Malfoy understood that this topic was off-limits. Fortunately for Harry's state of mind, Malfoy seemed to; at least, he changed the topic. "But using the kids is a good idea; they can give the student's point of view. Will your two behave? I know I can keep Scorpius in line, but . . . "

"We'll just keep them apart," Harry said. "Unless you want Fred along, that should be enough." Then, he added, "We could ask Fred; I'm sure he'd be delighted to spend the day with James. And Rich, for that matter. The one time the three of them were together, we were keeping a very close eye on them."

Malfoy shuddered. "No, thanks," he said firmly. "I've been hearing stories about those two. So, unless the ladies object, I can count on you lot?"

Harry looked at Ron to confirm, but Ron, uncomfortable as it was making him, seemed to be agreeable. "Unless Ginny or Hermione have an objection, I think you can count on us all to be there." Unable to resist, he asked, "So, Malfoy, when'd you grow up?"

Malfoy's expression was serious, but not angry. "The day I realised that the people who won the war weren't going to destroy us, or even try. I did a lot of rethinking." He smiled. "It was . . . quite the revelation." Standing up, he said, "Unless there's something else you gentlemen would like to discuss, I have other appointments this afternoon." With a fond smile, he added, "I have tickets for the Falcons and I'm taking Scorpius."

When Ron looked ready to taunt Malfoy with the Falcons' terrible record, Harry kicked him. "Enjoy the game, Malfoy," he said, holding out his hand.

Malfoy took it and smiled. "Thanks, I plan on it."

As Harry walked Ron back to the shop, Ron said, "Y'know, Rose keeps talking about what a nice kid Scorpius is, and how nice his dad's been to her. I couldn't believe it; he was such a prat when we were kids."

"He was more than that," Harry said, "but it's like he said, he and his family lived and they lost a lot less than they expected to. I suppose it actually had an effect."

"Who knew?" Ron said.

**July 13, 2018**

Brother Simon sat down at the kitchen table and was finally ready to discuss the problem. At his request, Judith had asked Matt to join them.

"Your letter mentioned some concerns," Brother Simon said, with a warm smile on his face. "I'd like to hear them directly from you, if you don't mind."

Judith nodded and tried to bring her scattered thoughts under control. "Matt's a good boy," she started. "He does as he's told, doesn't play with bad kids, does his schoolwork. Mostly," she said, exchanging a grin with her son. He really was a good boy. "But this letter and what it says…. it scares me. I don't want my son condemned to Hell."

"No mother does," Brother Simon said, holding out his hand. "May I see this letter?"

Judith had the letter next to the table with the rest of the things she thought she'd need. She handed it to Brother Simon. Seeing the way her hands were trembling, she moved them to her lap; the situation was bad enough without showing weakness.

Brother Simon read the letter over, as well as the one that Mr. Malfoy had left. Finally, he looked up at her. The smile was gone from his face; he sighed as he ran his hand over his thinning brown hair. "The content of the letter would be disturbing enough to me," he said, "even without the man's name. Any magic that doesn't come from God is evil, and this school says nothing about God."

"There's no mention of even so much as a chapel on the grounds," Judith added. "I asked about church, and Mr. Malfoy said that 'something could be arranged,' but it seems to me that it should already be there."

"Absolutely. His name adds to the evidence: Dragon Bad Faith. And the dragon is a symbol of Satan. I suspect that he's a knowing emissary of Satan and this school is one of his tools. Do you understand what we're saying?" he asked Matt.

Matt nodded, his face pale. "Yeah, you're saying I'm bad and going here would mean I couldn't ever get back to Jesus. Right?"

"No!" Brother Simon said at a little less than a roar. "You're no more bad than any other sinner in this world. You've been marked by the Devil, boy, and this supposed school is a trap to bring you to him." He leaned back as his smile returned. "Now, has anything ever happened that would indicate he has this, this, this magic?"

Judith closed her eyes. "Yes. When he gets angry, things start flying around the house. When he was little, he used to be able to call his toys to him, and sweets. Once, when I thought I was about to be mugged, Matt yelled and the man fell down. Except for that last time, I've always punished Matt when these things happened. He says he doesn't know what he did, but all you have to do is to look at what's happening to tell he's doing it."

Brother Simon nodded. "God's testing you; making sure you're both His people. I hope I don't have to tell you that Matt can't go to this school, this Hogwarts. That's the easy part."

"Do we have to do more?" Matt asked. He'd been so upset ever since Judith had told him that magic, and therefore Hogwarts, was evil. He'd thought it sounded like so much fun.

"God never makes us do anything," Brother Simon said. "But if you have this magic in you, it's best if we get it out. You don't want any more dealings with Bad Faith now, do you?"

Judith was so proud when Matt shook his head, "No." He looked troubled to her, but the whole thing was upsetting. Once things were settled, she'd have to arrange something nice for him. He really was a good kid!

Reaching into his pocket and handing Judith a brochure, Brother Simon stood. "That's our church; Sunday services start at 10. I'll ask for a prayer circle to meet every night next week."

"Thank you; my church refused to help. They said there's no such thing as magic and simply believing in it is succumbing to the Devil. Now, what do I owe you?" Judith asked.

Shaking his head, Brother Simon said, "You can't put a price on God's mercy. A good faith offering of what you think your son's safety is worth is all we ask." As he opened the door, he turned. "Oh, as much water as you want is fine, but Matt should only eat bread, and that every other day. Always a good idea to purify the body as much as possible, and the Devil doesn't like fasting for purification."

"Would vitamins be all right?" Judith asked.

Brother Simon seemed never to have considered it. He stopped for a minute, looking carefully at Judith, but finally smiled. "You're such a good mother," he said. "Yes, I don't see how vitamins could be a problem. Might even help. I hope to see the both of you on Sunday morning."

After he'd closed the door, Matt looked at the letter. "I was looking forward to showing it to Dad next weekend. I bet he'd be excited for me." Before Judith could say anything, or reach out to him, he'd taken the letter, and the rest of the information it had come with, and walked quickly to his bedroom. Judith's heart ached for him, but she knew she had to be firm. She wouldn't lose her son to evil, she just wouldn't.

**July 14, 2018**

"Don't forget," Sophie said to Dudley over breakfast after the kids had left. "Your parents are coming over tomorrow."

Dudley swallowed his toast, trying to dislodge the lump that had joined it. "You want to tell them. Even though we may decide not to send her to Hogwarts."

"Be honest, love," Sophie said as she scraped the dishes to put them in the dishwasher. "We're waiting until we see it because neither of us is comfortable sending her somewhere we've never even seen, but she'll be going unless there's a very strong reason not to."

Dudley sighed. "Yeah, she'd probably run away if we didn't send her; she's that excited. It's just . . . It's going to be such a fight."

Sophie poured herself a cup of tea and sat down facing Dudley. "Do you know why she's, why either of them, is so prejudiced against magic?"

Wishing he had a better answer, Dudley shook his head. "I'm not sure. Part of it's that magic is different. Most people don't have it. Respectable people don't have children who turn their teacher's hair blue, or jump up on the school roof, or make fancy puddings float. Or land on Mrs. What's-Her-Name's head. Or use owls to send post. It's not normal; it's not respectable; it doesn't . . ."

"Doesn't fit your mum's idea of what a proper upper middle class family should be like," Sophie said when Dudley trailed off. "Did Harry do all those things?"

For the first time, Dudley looked back at all the strange, unnatural things that had happened around Harry as they grew up, and saw the humour. "Yeah. Mrs. McGillicuddy was especially funny. Piers had set a tack on Harry's chair, so he was trying to pick it up before he sat down, and Mrs. McGillicuddy snapped at him to sit! Down! Now! So, he did, and then got in trouble for yelping when the tack got him--because she hadn't seen it, you see--and then her hair went blue. The whole class started laughing."

"She didn't think it was Harry, did she?"

"Well, yeah," Dudley said, still smiling at the mental image of a bright-blue-haired Mrs. McGillicuddy, "but only because she blamed Harry for everything that went wrong in that class. She and Mum were friends, y'see. But she couldn't suss out how. I didn't realise it then, but Mum knew exactly what happened." He stopped smiling as he remembered what happened later. "He was locked . . ." He trailed off. "Amazing, really, that any of us lived long enough for Harry to grow up, with all that we did to him."

Sophie took a sip of tea, clearly thinking about something. Finally, she said, "I think we wait until they're sitting down and comfortable and then just tell them. If they get, well, we tell them they have three grandchildren and, if they can't handle the fact that one of them is a witch, they don't have to have anything to do with any of them."

"You don't want to tell them about Tom?" Dudley asked. Not that he was arguing, but Sophie was usually more upfront and blunt than that.

"No, love," she said. "Let's let them get used to Daphne before we spring Tom on them. Now, do we tell them about Harry?"

Dudley shrugged. "If they ask, yeah. Otherwise, . . . They don't like Harry and he doesn't like them. It's not like we're asking them to put up with him. Or his family. On the other hand, if they ask, we tell them." With a smirk, he continued, "We can let them know how well he's doing, and how well he's known. And thought of."

"And how badly they, and you, are?" Sophie asked. Then she sighed. "I can't wait until this is over. For better or worse, I just want this to be over. Then, after we've made our final decision, we can think about my family."

"How do you think they'll take it?" Even though he'd known her family for years, Dudley still had a hard time predicting how they'd react to things. They were so different from his family.

"Are you kidding?" she asked with a laugh. "They'll think it's fantastic, although we'll have to confiscate her wand so she doesn't get in trouble for breaking the underage magic rules. Dad, especially, will want to have her try any spell he's ever heard of. And he's the fantasy lover of the family."

Dudley nodded and laughed. Yes, Sophie's family would be much easier to handle. On this issue, at least.

**July 15, 2018**

"Where are the children?" Petunia Dursley asked, looking around the front hall.

"They're busy with something upstairs," Sophie said, just as she'd planned. "Why don't you come on in to the lounge?"

The next several minutes were spent with the usual small talk. Once they'd established that they were all fine, the children were doing well, and this summer seemed even hotter than last summer, Sophie gave Dudley a look. They'd agreed that he'd be the one to break the news about Daphne to his parents; if she were to do so, they'd assume it was just one more way to keep them away from their precious grandchildren.

"Mum, Dad," Dudley said, looking as if he were about to be marched off to his execution, "a couple of weeks ago, we got a letter accepting Daphne to a special school. We're considering sending her there."

Petunia beamed while Vernon blew out his moustache and said, "Glad to see they're recognizing our little princess. She's quite the special girl, isn't she? What school is it?"

Dudley smiled. "She certainly is." Then he took a deep breath. "The school is Hogwarts--"

He got no further. Petunia leapt to her feet and screeched, "You can't send her there! Dudley, you remember what those people were like. She can't go!"

Sophie looked at her mother-in-law calmly. "We haven't made any definite decisions yet, but we're seriously considering it. She'd probably be happier with people more like her."

"But they'll steal her!" Petunia wailed. "They'll steal her just like that boy stole my sister!"

As Sophie tried to wrap her mind around the completely unexpected objection, Vernon stood and walked over to Petunia, embracing her. "I don't know why you're upsetting your mother this way. They'll take our Daphne and turn her into some kind of freak. You'll never see her and, when you do, she won't be your little girl any more, but one of them. Like that nasty little creep Petunia's sister hung around with. Or your cousin, for that matter. You remember what a nasty boy he was."

"Dad," Dudley started to say, but Sophie cut him off. Better to handle the fears that didn't involve the word "freak" first.

"What do you mean, they steal them?" she asked. "And what boy? Do you mean, erm, Lily's husband?"

"No," Petunia said, sniffling, "I only met _him_ once. There was a boy, he lived near us, a nasty little boy. He was a wizard, though, and he stole Lily away from me. And now he, or someone like him, will steal Daphne, too. They're horrible people! Horrible!"

As Sophie tried to get Petunia to sit down, Daphne came flying down the stairs, with her brothers right behind her. "Grandma," she said as she flung her arms around her grandmother, almost as upset as Petunia was, "I promise, I won't do any such thing! I love all of you! But magic's cool and I think I'll be good at it." Then she scowled. "I have to come up with some way to make my laptop work, though; I need it."

Petunia hugged Daphne back and started sobbing in earnest. Vernon scowled at Sophie and said, "See what you've done?"

"Dad," Dudley said firmly, "don't blame Sophie for any of this. We're making this decision as a team, and I doubt if Daphne got the magic from her. It's my aunt, and cousin, who were magical. Not hers. Now, why don't we all sit down and have a calm discussion?"

Sophie wasn't surprised when it wasn't that simple. First, Petunia had to be calmed down, which took a lot longer than Sophie had expected. Then, Vernon had to be calmed down, which took every bit as long as Sophie had expected. Then, the kids had to be calmed down, which was no easier than it ever was. Finally, after heavy doses of tea, and whiskey for Vernon, the seven of them were sitting in the lounge reasonably calm.

"What do you mean, they steal children?" Sophie asked.

"Before she got her Hogwarts letter, she met that awful boy," Petunia said, sniffling. "He, well, he convinced her that we, my parents and I, weren't, weren't as good as the two of them. As witches and wizards. Just because they had magic. And I tried to go, too, because--" She dissolved into tears again. When she'd calmed down, she said icily, "It was made clear to me that the only thing those freaks care about is magic. Family doesn't matter at all. They steal our children. I guess they don't have enough of their own." She put her arms around Daphne, drawing her closer. "They took Lily, and she died so very young. I won't let them have Daphne."

"We're not letting them take Daphne away from us," Dudley said firmly. "We're considering letting her go because we do think she'll do better with people who will understand the, the, the strange things that happen to her, but she's our daughter, and we won't let anything change that." He gave Sophie a look and took a deep breath. "I don't think it'll happen. Harry seemed as concerned about Rich as he was about Daphne." He chuckled a little ruefully. "Maybe even more so; he knows what it's like to be the odd one out."

"You talked to him!?" Vernon roared.

Before his father could say anything else, Dudley said, "Yes, we spoke to him. And he's been really helpful. We spent last weekend with them, got to see what a real Wizarding house looks like, even spent Sunday with his in-laws. They've got us signed up for a tour--"

"They don't give tours!" Petunia said, her mouth a thin line. "They don't let decent folk anywhere near their precious school!"

"They do now," Sophie said, deliberately speaking softly. "It's the very first year, but they're giving a tour to all the families like ours, that have a youngster who may be attending Hogwarts in September. We're already signed up--"

"And I asked Harry," Dudley said, smiling at Sophie. "If you want, the two of you can come along. He'll take care of everything."

"And I got to meet their kids," Daphne said. "And they're really nice, and their girl is Lily just like your sister and she even has red hair and she has a puffskein that looks just like a Tribble from Star Trek and they've all got brooms but Uncle Harry, 'cause that sounds better than Cousin Harry, Uncle Harry says I can't take one to school this year and electronics don't work but Rose says there ought to be a way to make them work and we got history books and Uncle Harry's in them and . . ."

Petunia hugged Daphne close. "I don't know about the tour. That Headmaster Dumbledore didn't seem to think them a good idea."

"He's dead," Daphne said. "He was murdered! And his murderer got to be Headmaster after him. Except he was really a good guy. I'm not sure why. And they named Al after both of them. And--"

"You're awfully quiet," Vernon said, looking at Rich. "What do you think about all of this?"

Rich shrugged. "I like Smeltings. Hogwarts sounds like too much work to me, and all my friends go to Smeltings. James is OK, though, and so are his cousins." He shrugged. "I'm cool with it all. Me and Dad have had a couple of good talks, and I had one with Harry, too. He's wicked." Rich suddenly grinned. "He's an Auror, which is kind of like a police detective and an army special forces guy combined; he knows some cool stuff."

Vernon grunted. "Nasty little freak; could have gotten us all killed! Had to hide for a year! Lost accounts, made your mother sick, blew up poor Marge . . . Is that what you want our Daphne to become? A nasty little freak?"

"Daphne is not a freak and I will thank you to stop using that word!" Sophie took a deep breath before she completely lost her temper. "I happen to like Harry, he seems like a nice man, but I'll accept that raising him was difficult. But he's no more a freak than any of us are, and I won't put up with prejudice or that kind of language in my home." Making her voice hard, she added, "As I've said before."

Petunia scowled. "My sister died for that ungrateful little brat and all his lot could do was celebrate. They let her die and didn't care a bit."

"She's got a statue," Tom piped up. "She and Uncle Harry and his dad, too. You have to be magical to see it, or be touching someone magical. And Daphne said that she read a book that said she defeated the bad guy, but through Uncle Harry." Tom looked confused. "Or something like that. I didn't really understand it."

"The books don't make it clear," Daphne said, "but they all say it was Lily Potter who ultimately defeated him the first time, and one theory is that she defeated him both times, but through Uncle Harry. Everybody knows her."

Petunia looked shocked and didn't say anything for a long time. When she did speak, she asked Tom what he'd be doing for school for the next year. The topic of Daphne and Hogwarts, and everything associated with magic, was dropped for the rest of the day, which was much more pleasant than Sophie had expected.

As they left, Petunia pulled Daphne aside and whispered to her for a few minutes before kissing her good-bye. Once their car had left, Sophie asked Daphne, "What did she say to you just now?"

Daphne grinned. "She said that she'll come on the tour if I want. And she asked me to send her a copy of one of the books that talks about her sister so much." She skipped up the stairs, muttering something that Sophie carefully didn't listen to.

As they went to bed that night, Sophie sighed. Their biggest hurdle was out of the way. If they decided to send Daphne to Hogwarts, they'd have to decide what to tell her side of the family, but Dudley's parents were resigned, if still not very happy at the idea. And she hadn't even had to threaten them with not allowing them to see any of the kids. Life was good.


	4. Week 3

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**July 16, 2018**

Dudley watched Harry walk into the pub and felt himself relax. Even though he knew it was stupid, he'd been expecting the sullen, defiant teenager he remembered from his own teenage years, not this cheerful man dressed in jeans and a bright red jumper. As Harry walked back to his booth, Dudley reminded himself of what he wanted to say -- and not say.

After Harry had sat down, and they each had a pint in front of them, Harry sat back and asked, "What's up?"

"Couple of things," Dudley said, looking at his pint. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he had to. "We had Mum and Dad over yesterday--"

"Sorry to hear that," Harry said. His smile said it was a tease; he didn't seem to be serious.

"Er, yeah. They want to come on the tour. Can it be arranged?"

Harry sat forward abruptly. He didn't say anything for several minutes; his expression, when Dudley peeked up at him, was stunned. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia want to tour a magical school? Full of witches and wizards and other freakish, unnatural sorts? 'Cause, you know, there are non-human people around. Centaurs and such."

"Yeah," Dudley said, not looking up. "And, well, Sophie made Dad promise not to say 'freak'. Or anything similar. He's not happy, but he agreed to it."

"That's nice," said Harry, his voice faint. Another minute passed before he said, "Why?"

Dudley finally forced himself to look up at his cousin. There was so much_ past_ behind them; it was hard to believe they could ever get along, let alone be friends. But Dudley had made himself a promise the night before, as he'd lain in bed, holding his sleeping wife and watching the clock. He and Harry should have been like brothers. It had taken him nearly forty years, but he was ready, if Harry was willing. He sighed. "Because they don't want to lose Daphne. That's what it all comes down to.

"Did you know, Mum always thought Hogwarts steals kids? Not really, but their hearts. There was some boy, not your father, that your mum met and Mum thinks he convinced your mum that she didn't belong in her family any more, now that she was a witch. And, from what Mum says, he was kind of, I dunno, weird-looking or something. Anyway, I think she always wanted to see the school, so . . . "

When he looked up, Harry didn't look quite as stunned as Dudley had expected. Instead, he looked thoughtful. After finishing his pint, and pouring a second from the pitcher and drinking half of that, he finally smiled. "You know, that actually makes sense. I know the boy she's talking about, and, well, he's not who you'd choose as an example of a 'fine upstanding Wizarding youth'. One of my least favourite professors when I was at school." He took another drink. "Probably the bravest man I ever knew, but no one'd call him nice." He looked down at the table and said, so softly Dudley almost couldn't hear him, "'Cept maybe Mum."

It took another couple of drinks, and a bracing deep breath, before Harry said, looking straight at Dudley, "I'll set it up, but it won't be easy. I never told how they treated me, but my friends did, and, after, all the idiot biographies made a big deal of it." He shrugged. "I'm sorry about that, but there's not much I can do about it."

Dudley nodded, struck by what Harry had said. 'I never told.' It sounded like every TV show about abused children he'd ever seen. He shook his head. "I'll tell them, but it's no more than they've earned, wouldn't you say?"

Harry smiled at him. "Ah, Dudley," he said quietly, "if all we ever got was what we earned, we'd all be in sad, sad shape."

"You remind me of a saint, sometimes," Dudley said in wonder. He'd never been any good at forgiving. Not even Sophie and the kids.

Harry snorted, spraying beer. "Don't let Ginny hear you say that," he said, sniggering. "Or any of her brothers. They'd never let me live it down. Now, how have things been going with Daphne? I know she's been sending letters to Lily and Al, who I_ won't_ call Asp, no matter how much he wants me to, but I'd like to hear how you're seeing it."

They spent the next several hours talking about Daphne and how excited she was. Then the conversation wandered to their favourite sports teams. To Dudley's surprise, Harry still followed football, although he wasn't as keen on it as Dudley was. By the time they left the pub, neither of them could walk very straight.

"Y'don' mind if I crash on y'r couch, d'ya?" Harry asked, weaving a bit as he walked home with Dudley. "I'd splinch m'self for sure 'f I tried to App'rate now. 'N borrow Daphne's owl so Ginny won' worry. Don' wan' her to worry."

"Good husband, y'are," Dudley said, hoping he was heading in the right direction.

"Hell, no," Harry said, laughing. "Y'ever had bats comin' out y'r nose? She's_ nasty_ when she gets angry." His eyes got distant, and his smile broadened. "Beaut'ful, though. Even more'n normal."

The next morning, Harry looked no better than Dudley felt when he got up. "Thank Merlin I'm in charge of my department," he said, looking at the clock. "No one'll yell at me when I'm a little late. Thanks for the couch," he said as he kissed Sophie. He shook hands with Dudley and said, "See you Saturday, unless it's earlier. Hope you're feeling better than me." He shook his head and disappeared.

"I just hope Ginny doesn't spell bats up his nose," Dudley said thoughtfully as he looked at the empty place where Harry had been standing.

"Can she do that?" Sophie asked, and shook her head when Dudley shrugged. "Handy thing to know," was her final comment.

**July 17, 2018**

_Dear Mrs. Dursley,_

_I am in receipt of your letter regarding the addition of your in-laws on Saturday's tour. I must admit that I am puzzled as to their reasons for wanting to attend; from everything that I have heard, they have hated the Wizarding World for longer than either of us have been alive._

_Nevertheless, since their granddaughter has been invited to attend Hogwarts in September, and we believe that family is the most important thing in any person's life, they are welcome to attend and I will add their names to my list. Please remember that everyone attending will need to be at the Leaky Cauldron precisely at 11:30. Meals will be provided at the school at twelve and six; we will be returning to the Leaky Cauldron no later than eight o'clock._

_Please wear comfortable clothing, especially shoes, and remember that we expect parents to monitor their children's whereabouts at all times._

_I hope that the tour will answer any questions you may have and that we may look forward to your daughter, Daphne's, presence on the Hogwarts Express on 1 September._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Hogwarts Muggleborn Family Liason_

**July 18, 2018**

_Dear Lily,_

_What do you know about your Grandmother Evans Potter? Dad doesn't know anything and Gran won't talk about her except she did on Sunday when we went over to visit and it was awful. She says Hogwarts, or the wizards anyway, steal children and that's what'll happen to me if I go. Mum says it's rubbish and that Gran is blaming the distance between her and her sister on Hogwarts but I don't want to get stolen. It must not happen if you live in a wizard family since none of you have been._

_Rich says to tell James Hi but I'm not sure I want to. He's being a real prat right now; stole one of my books (not Hogwarts just fiction) and won't give it back. And he has to because Mum'll have a fit if she sees it. (It's a love story and there's kissing and stuff.) I hope your brothers treat you better than mine do me but I doubt it. Why do we have to have brothers?_

_See you on Saturday if I don't talk with you before._

_Love,_

_Daphne_

**July 19, 2018**

Judith walked in to Matt's room to collect his dirty clothes. He was lying on his bed, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling and looking miserable. Judith's heart went out to him; this was so very hard. "Sweetheart," she asked, a little tentatively, "is there anything I can do for you?"

"Can I have a cheese sandwich?" he asked, with a bit of a whine. "I'll even eat broccoli. Mum, I'm so hungry!"

"I know, but it's important," Judith said. She wasn't sure how long it would be before she gave in to temptation and fed him properly. His face already looked so much thinner, and it had been days since he smiled. "You don't want Satan to have you, do you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Would he feed me?" he asked quietly.

Steeling herself, Judith said, "None of that now. Our Lord fasted for forty days while Satan tempted him. You're at least getting something every other day. You'll see, you'll feel better when he's gone."

"Hogwarts doesn't sound so very dangerous," Matt said. It was an argument he'd been repeating since he'd received the letter. "Maybe, if I go, I can control it and keep it from being evil."

"Matt, you know what the Bible says. It's evil! Now, would you like to watch some TV?" Judith usually didn't let Matt watch much TV, but maybe it would cheer him up. There were channels with appropriate programming.

With a sigh, Matt sat up. "Might as well be bored there as here. Mum? Can I call Dad tonight?"

Judith sighed. Her ex-husband, and how angry she still was that he'd divorced her, was something else she tried to limit his son's exposure to. But even if he wasn't a good Christian, he did love Matt and wanted what was best for their son. She was pretty sure, anyway. "Sure. But let's wait until tonight when he'll be home, OK?"

"OK," Matt said, as he got up to move to the couch. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed so disinterested in everything. Judith had to keep reminding herself that she was doing this to keep her son from evil. He was all she had.

**July 20, 2018**

Draco sighed as he knocked on the door. He'd tried several times to write and phone Mrs. Mitchell to convince her to bring her son and come on the tour of Hogwarts. She'd never really explained what her problem with Hogwarts was; she just insisted that she wouldn't send her son someplace "evil". How anyone could consider Hogwarts evil was beyond him, but she was a Muggle and they had some rather strange ideas about magic.

After a minute, she opened the door, but only as far as the chain would reach. She was scowling fiercely. "If you come around here one more time," she said, "I'll call the police on you for harassment. Now, go away!"

"But, Mrs. Mitchell," was as far as Draco got before the door slammed in his face. The failure felt horrible; this was the first year he'd been allowed to handle the entire process of notifying the Muggleborn students and he couldn't even convince all of them to consider attending Hogwarts. None of them had accepted yet, but he suspected that they were just waiting for the tour. Amazing, really, that they'd ever convinced any Muggleborn students to attend without seeing the school first, and who could blame the parents? It made him wonder about the ones who'd attended in the past; why had their parents agreed?

Shaking his head, he turned and left, hoping that he wasn't wrong not to insist. He couldn't help the bad feeling he had.

**July 21, 2018**

Daphne could hardly stand still, she was that excited! Hogwarts! She was going to get to see Hogwarts! And, then, maybe Mum would finally agree that Daphne could go there.

In the end, Gramps had decided not to come. "Too many freaks," was what he'd said. He didn't seem too upset with Daphne, though, or the boys; he'd slipped each of them a ten-pound note. Mum had sighed when she'd seen that, but she hadn't said anything else.

Gran was coming, though. She looked as if someone was about to beat her up or something, but she was here. Standing as far away from everyone except Daddy as she could, and making sure her dress didn't brush against anything, but here.

Finally,_ finally_, the Potters showed up. The two boys were in long, well Daphne thought they were robes rather than dresses. They were plain and black, with badges on them. James's badge was red and gold and Al's was green and grey. Uncle Harry looked to be wearing a robe uniform as well; it was red, with a couple of medals on it! Daphne wondered if she could look at them more closely later; at least one was probably an Order of Merlin. That seemed to be the big one for wizards. Aunt Ginny was wearing robes as well. Hers were dark green, with a gold badge on it. Lily was the only Potter who didn't look "official" in any way, although she was wearing robes as well.

Everybody was greeting everybody else, except for Gran who was hanging back. Finally, she heaved a great sigh and walked up to Uncle Harry. "Looks like you're doing all right for yourself," she said. Her face was pinched and her voice sounded angry.

Uncle Harry's face was blank. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia," he said, his voice flat. "I'm doing quite well. Now. May I introduce my wife, Ginny, and my children, James, Albus and Lily?" He'd put his arm around Aunt Ginny and pulled her close to him.

Gran shook hands, but Daphne could tell it was the last thing she wanted to do. When she got to Lily, though, she looked startled. "You named your daughter for her?" she asked, sounding stunned.

"She _was_ my mother," Uncle Harry said. His face was still, but, somehow, he didn't look happy.

Mum and Daddy got between them before they could say anything else. Daphne was happy about that; the tension between the two of them was awful. Gran kept sneaking looks at Lily, though; Daphne wasn't sure why.

While they were greeting family, other people had started to arrive. Other than the Weasleys, Daphne didn't know any of them. Most of the people were dressed like Daphne's family, in regular clothing. Well, she supposed she'd better start calling it Muggle clothing, but it still felt like the Wizard clothing was the "different" kind. There were a few families that were dressed in Wizarding clothing. Daphne noticed that each of those families had at least one child in what she thought were Hogwarts uniforms.

Finally, 11:30 came around. One of the men dressed in Wizarding clothing, with pale blond hair and a sharp face, walked to the front of the room. He touched his wand to his throat and said, loud enough for everyone to hear him clearly, "Good morning, everyone, and welcome to what we hope will become an annual Hogwarts tour. As it is the first one, I'm sure we're going to find a few bumps along the way, so I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know what worked and what didn't after we complete the tour."

With a big smile, he said, "For those of you who haven't met me, I'm Draco Malfoy, and I'm the Hogwarts Muggleborn Family Liaison. That's also new, by the way, so if you have any suggestions, I'd be delighted to hear them. This is my wife, Tori," he gestured to the attractive brunette woman standing next to him, "and this is my son, Scorpius," he gestured to the boy standing on her far side. Daphne had heard of Scorpius Malfoy; he was one of Al's best friends. He looked just like his father. "Now, because it occurred to me that there's an awful lot of you and not very many of me, I called in some other Hogwarts alumni and their families to help out." He waved his wand; there were red balls of light over Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, James, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione and green ones over Al and Rose. "The balls of light," Mr. Malfoy said, "will indicate Hogwarts students past and present. The colour indicates their House; since I only set up the help very recently, we have only two Houses represented. Green is Slytherin and red is Gryffindor. If this works as well as I hope it does, next year there will also be blue for Ravenclaw and yellow for Hufflepuff. The students are in their school robes while their parents are in their regular robes."

He pulled out a stack of bracelets and began passing them around. "Please have everyone in your party put one of these on. They have two functions. The first is transportation; they're Portkeys which will take us to Hogwarts at noon and bring us back this evening." Mr. Malfoy was now walking around the room, making sure everyone was wearing a bracelet and helping a few people who were having problems. "They also contain a tracking spell; that way, if anyone gets lost, we can find you again. However, I would really, really prefer it if no one got lost, so please pay attention to where you are, and try to keep one of us in sight." He checked his watch. "We have five minutes before the Portkeys activate."

Mr. Malfoy looked like he was trying to come up with something to say when Uncle Harry spoke up. "For anyone who's never travelled by Portkey before, you may want to brace yourself. Or even sit down; it's a bumpy ride." Some people took Uncle Harry's advice, although he did move to advise the lady sitting in a chair not to do that; apparently the chair wouldn't come along. And, then, finally, _finally_, the Portkeys activated and they were going to Hogwarts!

They arrived with a bump, which meant that the adults were complaining and the little kids were crying. Daphne wasn't paying attention; the sight of the honest-to-goodness castle, from right out of a fairy tale, in front of her took all of her attention. She dimly heard Mr. Malfoy giving instructions but couldn't be bothered to pay attention; this was a school? And she got to come here? And all she needed was her parents' permission? She had to get it; she just had to.

She was brought out of her reverie abruptly when her mother said, "Daphne!" sharply in her ear. It didn't sound as if it was the first time she'd called. "Mum, it's a castle!" she said, sweeping her arm around to indicate everything.

"Yes," her mother said, sounding amused, "and if you were paying attention, you'd know we're going inside of it. So move it, young lady!"

Daphne found she was at the back of the group entering the castle. Once inside, Mum squeezed the two of them next to the rest of the family. Gran didn't look happy; she looked kind of impressed, but like she didn't want to.

Before Daphne could say anything, a man with a long, grey beard and elegant-looking robes stood up on a dais, raised his hands and said, in a voice that could be clearly heard throughout the hall, "Greetings! I'm Headmaster Pernell Higginbotham and it is my pleasure to welcome all of you here today. If you have any questions, please ask anyone of us for assistance. Before we sit down to eat, let me introduce you to the Heads of House. There are four Houses here at Hogwarts; our students are Sorted into one as soon as they arrive, and it becomes their home and family for their seven years of schooling. So, we have Professor Aurora Sinistra, Head of Slytherin House, professor of Astronomy and my Deputy Headmistress." Professor Sinistra was a tall, middle-aged woman with long, black hair and a serene expression. "Next is Professor Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and professor of Charms." Professor Flitwick was very tiny and looked quite elderly but very nice. "We have Professor Dorothea Smith, Head of Hufflepuff House and professor of Transfiguration." Professor Smith was a plump woman with short blonde hair, thick glasses and a rather vacant smile. "And, finally, Professor Neville Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor House and professor of Herbology." Professor Longbottom looked to be about her parents' age, with a round face and a pleasant smile. "And, now if you will all find seats at the tables, and I will ask our current students and alumni not to restrict themselves to their own House tables so our guests have someone to ask questions of nearby, we will begin the Feast."

It took several minutes for everyone to figure out where they were going to sit. Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione and their kids sat at the Gryffindor table while Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny and their kids sat at the Hufflepuff table. Daphne's family stayed near the Potters; Gran was wide-eyed and looked as if something was going to snatch her, or Daphne, away at any moment. Daddy finally had Gran sit between him and Mum to try to help her relax. Daphne wound up on Mum's other side, across from Al.

A few moments later, everyone seemed settled. Headmaster Higginbotham stood and clapped his hands. Immediately, the tables were covered with platters of food, all kinds of food! Rich and Tom joined the other boys Daphne could see in piling as much food as possible onto their plates. Daphne craned her neck trying to see as much as possible while everyone was eating. Mum put a chicken leg and some roasted potatoes on her plate, leaned over and said, "Eat something. And I do mean now!" Daphne couldn't stop looking, but she did try to nibble as she did so.

Gran was poking at the food on her plate, looking completely revolted, while Daddy had tucked in cheerfully. In fact, most of the people around were doing the same. Daphne didn't know how they could; there was so much to see and wonder about! There was the ceiling that looked just like the sky outside, and the puzzle of how and where the food they were eating came from, and what they were going to be seeing later, and—

"I said eat!" Mum said quietly but firmly into Daphne's ear. She sighed but did what she was told. She had to come here; she just had to.

When everyone was done eating and with pudding and with coffee, Headmaster Higginbotham stood again. "I hope everyone has enjoyed their meal. Now, if you will follow Mr. Malfoy, you will be able to see Hogwarts School for yourselves."

Reminding herself that if she did anything stupid, she probably wouldn't be allowed to come, and would be punished besides, Daphne stayed near her parents as everyone stood to follow Mr. Malfoy, who was standing by the door. Once everyone had gathered, he opened the door and went farther into the castle.

Standing in a room with what seemed to be millions of staircases, some of them moving!, Daphne noticed that her mother and grandmother both looked unhappy. Before her mother could say something, another woman raised her hand and asked, "Mr. Malfoy, what safety precautions are there to prevent the students from falling off the end of the staircase while it's in motion?"

Mr. Malfoy looked surprised; Daphne didn't think he'd ever thought about it. "I'll have to get back to you on that," he said after a moment. "I can tell you that I've never heard of anyone falling off the staircases, no matter how active they get, but I don't know if that's because the students are careful, or if there are protective spells on them." He smiled. "Knowing how careful youngsters generally are, I suspect the latter, but I'll check into that." His wife made a note on a pad she was carrying. "Now, if you'll follow me to the dungeons, Professor Sinistra has kindly agreed to allow us to see the dorms and common room of Slytherin House. Although they're not identical, the other houses are set up in similar fashion."

"Dungeons!" Rich said, looking jealous for the first time.

Gran, on the other hand, looked queasy. Daphne heard Uncle Harry say, "If it makes you feel better, Aunt Petunia, just think of it as the basement. It's not what you're thinking. The Potions classroom is down here as well, so I was down here all the time." When Daphne looked at her again, she saw that Gran's lips were thin and her face white, but she kept walking, holding Daddy's hand very tightly.

They came to a door with Professor Sinistra standing before it. "I hope you understand the honour you're being given," she said in a clear voice. "This will be the first time in over four hundred years that non-Slytherins will be entering our house. Please follow me." She turned to the door and said, "Welcome," and the door opened! Daphne noticed Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron smirking at each other. Aunt Hermione seemed to see it as well since she smacked Uncle Ron.

As he gestured that everyone should follow Professor Sinistra, Mr. Malfoy said, "All of the houses have similar security systems. I believe that Ravenclaw has a slightly different system than the standard password, but the houses cannot simply be entered at will. The passwords are changed on a regular basis by the Heads of House, and they are to be given only to the students in that house. The Headmaster, of course, can override all of them, in the event of an emergency, but I can't find evidence of the system failing unless a student gave the intruder the password."

"Or wrote it down and had it stolen," muttered Uncle Ron.

"Hush," Aunt Hermione said. "He learned his lesson, and no one was hurt."

"You weren't the one looking at a wild man with a knife."

Aunt Hermione shushed him, which seemed to work that time, but it left Daphne wondering what had happened.

"This is the common room," Mr. Malfoy said, turning to look at everyone. "This is where the members of the house gather to socialize and study. Any meetings of the house as a whole are held here as well, and they would gather here if a head count needed to be taken." Daphne looked around; it was a comfortable enough room, she supposed. "Girl's dorm rooms are to the left; boys to the right. I'll take you into the boys' dormitory so you can get a feel for the amenities available to your children."

"Why not the girls' dormitory?" someone asked.

Mr. Malfoy grinned, and walked over the door leading to the girls' dormitories. As soon as he stepped through the door, there was a loud ringing and Mr. Malfoy was deposited into the centre of the common room, forcefully. "That would be why," he said as he stood up. There was laughter around the room. "The only exceptions are if the Head of House or the Headmaster is male, and the Head of House can only go into the dormitories in his own house. I'm sure all of you can understand why." Daphne didn't understand why it only worked one way, but she didn't say anything. She did notice that even Gran was smiling at Mr. Malfoy's antics.

The dorm rooms were no more exciting than the common room; there were seven beds in the room they got to see. The beds were kind of cool, four-posters with hanging curtains, but, really, they were just beds with bedside tables and wardrobes. A man asked Mr. Malfoy, "Do the kids spend any time here other than to sleep?"

Shrugging, Mr. Malfoy replied, "If they want. Typically, their time is spent in the common room or in the common areas of the castle. The dorms can be a good place to come if you need a little quiet time; usually your roommates will cooperate." He grinned, "Or not. I could tell you stories." That got a chuckle.

He even took them to see the bathroom. Since there weren't any boys living there now, it was clean and tidy. One of the women asked, "Aren't there any outlets? My daughter will need her hairdryer."

"There is no electricity," Mr. Malfoy pronounced that word very carefully, "used at Hogwarts School. In fact, you'll find that most wizards don't use it at all. Even Muggleborn witches and wizards don't tend to, although that does depend on the individuals. Magic and electricity don't mix well, so it's generally one or the other." He shrugged. "I haven't yet heard of a use of electricity that can't be duplicated by a spell. Your daughter is likely to be taught hair-drying spells the first week she's here. If she has trouble, she just has to ask for help."

As they walked to the next stop, the Potions classroom, Daphne could hear the discussions between the different adults becoming more concerned about the "primitive conditions" at the school. Personally, with the exception of her computer not working, Daphne thought that was half the fun. And she was determined to find a way for her computer to work. Or to find spells that would do the same things.

If she thought the dorms upset the parents, she was wrong. The Potions classroom had them horrified. Daphne didn't see the problem. Professor Hitchens clearly knew a lot about Potions; he'd even done research for St. Mungo's, which was the wizarding hospital, before he came to work for Hogwarts. He'd explained all of the safety procedures, including the venting spells, the station to flush out eyes or other body parts, pointing out that in a Muggle chemistry lab, their flushing-out station only handled eyes. He'd also shown them the emergency Floo that went straight to the Hospital Wing in the event of a real emergency. "And please note," he said kindly, "that in the five years I've been here, the Floo hasn't needed to be used once. Nor did it need using in the seven years I was a student. The spells are very effective; typically, they prevent the serious accidents from ever occurring."

At least the library calmed everyone down. Madam Read, who'd been the librarian for fifteen years, was delighted to be able to show her library off and showed them the card catalogue, which looked more like a database search engine than an old-fashioned card catalogue; Daphne couldn't wait to talk to her. She also demonstrated the spells on the Restricted Section to show that the students couldn't get to books that they weren't supposed to. She seemed rather surprised when several of the parents were upset at what they called "banning books" and wanted to know if they could sign waivers for their children. She told them to talk to the Headmaster about it.

Their final stop inside was the Hospital Wing. It looked . . . like any other hospital to Daphne. Kind of boring, really, but the parents obviously felt differently. While the parents grilled Madam Pomfrey on her emergency procedures and how she handled various medical conditions and problems, a discussion Daphne couldn't have found more boring, James began to tell stories about the different injuries and ailments he'd been treated for in his three years. When Al, Scorpius, and Rose joined in with their experiences, Aunt Hermione interrupted. "Maybe this isn't the best time to have this discussion," she said, looking at the group around Madam Pomfrey who were beginning to listen to the current students.

"Why?" James asked. "The only time she couldn't sort me before curfew was the time I managed to get a Muggle cold. That I had to live through. It took a week." His expression said it'd been nothing but torture.

"Do you mean the longest you've ever been here was with a cold?" asked one of the parents Daphne didn't know. "Even though you've been hurt so often?"

James shrugged. "Well, yeah. And Madam Pomfrey says I'm nothing on Dad. She said they were threatening to give him his own bed here. And Aunt Hermione—"

"Did some very stupid things and paid for them," Aunt Hermione said quickly. "Really, Madam Pomfrey is amazing; I prefer to call her than the regular Healers. Although she always sends me to them," she finished, sounding disgruntled.

"The students keep me more than busy enough," Madam Pomfrey said. "I've been taking care of students here for decades and I've seen just about everything. And, if you wish, I will contact you before I begin treating your child. I will ask you to sign a release form for that, of course; the treatment for some conditions is rather time-sensitive."

Her no-nonsense voice and competent air seemed to reassure the parents. Certainly the way the magical parents seemed comfortable with her helped that.

From there, Mr. Malfoy took them outside to show them the greenhouses and Quidditch Pitch. Gran had gone very quiet; her shoulders were hunched in and she was shooting looks at Uncle Harry when he wasn't looking. About halfway to the greenhouses, he caught one of her looks. He walked over to her and asked, "Is something the matter, Aunt Petunia? Other than the obvious?"

"I'm surprised we never heard from that Madam Pomfrey," Gran said, sounding subdued. "Or didn't you attend at the same time as Mrs. Weasley. I thought I recognized her."

"No, Hermione was in my year," Uncle Harry said. "Maybe Professor Dumbledore told her not to?" He shrugged. "I always thought you just didn't care."

Her mouth pinched and she shook her head, but didn't say anything else. Uncle Harry walked with her until they reached the greenhouses, but she didn't say anything more.

Professor Longbottom took them through the different greenhouses, which were separated according to both the environments the plants needed and the danger the plants represented. Daphne couldn't find it very interesting; she'd always thought that plants were pretty boring, and even magical plants that might move, or bite, or hurt you with their voices didn't really change that opinion. Still, it was a lot more interesting than dissecting frogs or whatever you did in biology classes.

The next stop was the Quidditch Pitch. Daphne didn't care about sports at all, but she kept quiet while Mr. Malfoy went on and on and _on_ about Quidditch. Some of the girls looked really happy when they found that they'd be able to play with the boys. In fact, they only had the one set of teams. "Are you sure the boys get enough competition that way?" one of the fathers asked.

Aunt Ginny smirked. "If they can keep up," she said.

Before they could really get into it, which the father looked like he wanted to and Aunt Ginny looked ready to as well, Mr. Malfoy stepped up. "We've always had both men and women playing the sport, right from the start. In professional Quidditch now, every team has at least one woman on it, usually the Seeker. That position needs someone fast, which is usually easier if you're smaller."

"Which explains why I always beat you," Uncle Harry said.

Mr. Malfoy smirked. "Shall we show these good people what it looks like when two Seekers go up against each other?"

Uncle Harry's eyes lit up, and then he looked up. "Do we have a Snitch? And brooms?"

"Yours is in the broom shed," Aunt Ginny said, her eyes sparkling. "I'll release the Snitch and referee for you two." While Uncle Harry and Mr. Malfoy headed for the broom shed, Aunt Ginny explained the rules. "In normal Quidditch, there are seven players to a team, but it's the catching of the Snitch that ends the game, which also earns that team 150 points. And to give you an idea of what's going on here, Harry and Draco played on their House teams when they went to Hogwarts." She grinned. "And Harry always won, with one exception. And that wasn't Draco Malfoy and Slytherin."

While she'd been talking, the two men had found brooms and were now flying over everyone. They seemed to be concentrating on their flying, but the witches and wizards in the crowd were cheering for their favoured Seeker. Except Al, who seemed torn. Finally, as Aunt Ginny released the little gold winged ball, he shouted, "Get it, Dad!"

Daphne decided that, while sports in general were pretty boring, Quidditch was wonderful. The two Seekers looked so graceful as they swooped around the pitch, sometimes chasing each other and sometimes flying to opposite sides. They each tried to fool the other one that they'd seen the Snitch. Daphne was sure they were feinting because she could see it hovering on one end of the pitch, hiding in the shadows. She whispered this to Rose, who looked at her in surprise. "Where?" she asked, squinting.

Daphne didn't want to point, in case Mr. Malfoy saw her and Uncle Harry didn't, but she did tell her where she could still see it.

Rose grinned and elbowed Al. "I think you might get the Seeker genes from the Evans side, not the Potters." She indicated the Snitch with her chin just as Uncle Harry appeared to have spotted it.

Mr. Malfoy appeared to have seen it at the same time, and they were racing to catch it. Everyone was cheering them on now. Most of the Muggles and new students were cheering for Mr. Malfoy, who they knew, but Daphne and her family and the Potters and the Weasleys were all cheering for Uncle Harry. Aunt Hermione was jumping up and down and waving her arms, Uncle Ron was punching the air and Aunt Ginny was shouting and clapping. Even Gran was cheering him on, although she wasn't making any noise doing it. And Uncle Harry caught the Snitch!

He took a victory lap, holding the Snitch high in his hand before he landed, gracefully, in front of everyone. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said as he handed the Snitch back. "It's been much too long."

"At least I can console myself that you earned all those d--, er, Gryffindor wins," Mr. Malfoy said, shaking Uncle Harry's hand. "Good match."

Uncle Harry grinned and then hugged Mr. Malfoy. They pulled away quickly, looking embarrassed, to everyone's laughs. Then Aunt Ginny and Mrs. Malfoy came up to kiss their husbands and lead everyone back to the castle and supper.

It was a quieter meal than the earlier one had been. Daphne noticed that, although they still had things they were worried about, most of the parents were talking about when their children would start, not if. The students-to-be were talking about the different classes and the professors. Daphne heard one boy, a blond boy built kind of like Rich, say something about how strange it was that the head of the house of the lions was a Herbology professor. "I mean, how brave could he be?"

"But he is!" Al said. "During the War, right at the end, Voldemort was going to kill him if the Sorting Hat didn't Sort him into Slytherin the second time, which you're not supposed to do, but do you know what happened?"

The boy who'd made the statement shook his head, his eyes wide. The conversations at that end of the table stopped as everyone was listening.

"The Sorting Hat dropped Gryffindor's Sword right on his head, just like it did for Dad when he rescued Mum in the Chamber of Secrets, and Professor Longbottom took it and he swung it and he whacked the head off of Voldemort's snake, which was helping keep him alive, and Dad says if it hadn't been for him he couldn't have defeated the most evil wizard in over a century so he does belong in Gryffindor!" He'd been acting out what had happened, with a truly dramatic sweep of his "sword", which was really his butter knife, as he'd said it. When he finished, to dead silence in the Great Hall, he realized that he'd not only been acting it out, but had been nearly shouting his defence of the Herbology Professor. His cheeks went bright red and he sat down, mumbling, "Well, that's what Dad says, anyway."

Uncle Harry's eyes shut, and he looked embarrassed and upset. Professor Longbottom's cheeks were as red as Al's. When Uncle Harry opened his eyes, the two men exchanged a long look. After a moment, in which no one spoke or made any noise at all, Professor Longbottom stood and said, "Well, it seems that the Potters are still my staunchest defenders. Thank you, Albus."

Aunt Ginny grinned at all three of them and said, her voice kind but firm, "Now all we have to do is to teach him the appropriate time for these stories and re-enactments."

"Yeah," Professor Longbottom muttered, "I know I wasn't that heroic."

"You were, but you still nearly broke my feet at the Yule Ball," Aunt Ginny said, which broke the silence as everyone laughed and went back to their conversations.

Daphne made a note of all the stories she wanted to hear from Al and Rose, and maybe even Scorpius, since it sounded like they had more information than even the books, which wasn't supposed to happen.

Headmaster Higginbotham gave a speech about how fortunate Hogwarts would be with these new students, which was boring but made the parents happy. Then, Mr. Malfoy directed everyone out to the lawn again, where their Portkey bracelets brought them back to the Leaky Cauldron so everyone could go home. Daphne and her family said their good-byes to the Potters and Weasleys and headed home.

To Daphne's delight, Mum and Dad were talking about what she would need when she went to Hogwarts, and what they wanted to ensure her safety. Daphne kept her mouth shut; safe wouldn't be nearly as much fun, she didn't think, but her parents didn't want her to go to school with excitement. The boys jabbered about all the things they thought were cool, while Gran sat quietly.

When they dropped her off, Gran hugged Daphne very tightly and whispered in her ear, "I just want you safe. Please, sweetheart, promise me you'll be safe, and stay away from trouble."

Her face was white and pinched, and she looked so broken-hearted that Daphne hugged her back just as hard and said, "Always, Gran. Always, for you."

**July 22, 2018**

_Dear Dad,_

_I wish you'd been home the other night when I called, or that you'd been able to call back. This would be a lot easier to say on the phone. Still, since you won't be able to call me back for a while, I thought I'd send you this letter because it's really important._

_I know you said you can't go against Mum; that that's what the courts say. And I agree that she's a really great Mum most of the time. __She makes sure I eat right and _

_I told you about the letter I got from that Hogwarts place, and how cool it sounded. And how Mum got really upset and said I wasn't going because its evil and stuff. And you said she's the one who makes those decisions and your hands are tied. But maybe you could get the courts to listen to you?_

_Because Mum's gone mad! She went to her minister, who told her there's no such thing as magic and Hogwarts is some kind of hoax. Which would have been OK, even if I really want to go there. But she found this other minister who said there is magic, and its evil and made by satan and anyone who can use it is evil. So they're trying to get rid of my evil. Which means I can only have some bread every other day, but I get vitamins and as much water as I can drink. _

_Mum took me to some kind of special service this afternoon, where the minister and a bunch of people who go to his church prayed over me to get the evil out. But he said, because I still want to go to Hogwarts, that the evil didn't come out, so they might have to resort to stronger measures._

_Can't you please take me on a vacation? Just until Mum calms down a little. Maybe until the school year starts. It's not like I'm going to any school if Mum says I can't. I still think it'd be cool, but parents think different about stuff like this. But I don't think I can take much more of this stupid minister. I told mum that and she said it was the devil doing something._

_Please call. I want to talk to someone who doesn't think I'm evil._

_Love,_

_Matt_


	5. Week 4

**Monday, July 23, 2018**

_Dear Ginny,_

_Thank you for your assistance with Saturday's tour; the work of you, your family and your brother's family made it the success that it was._

_If you haven't yet heard, two acceptance letters have already been received for the coming year's Muggleborn students. _

_In the interest of easing their way into the Wizarding world, Draco would like to host several activities through the rest of the summer, including a Quidditch match, a shopping trip to Diagon Alley, and a tour of a Wizarding home. After the tour, I think your assistance would be not only helpful, but perhaps essential for its success._

_In addition, Scorpius had been asking that your Albus be allowed to visit this summer. I thought that the weekend of August 3-5 would be a good one; please let me know if this would be acceptable._

_Again, thank you for being involved with Saturday's tour, and Draco and I look forward to working with you in the future._

_Sincerely,_

_Tori_

_Astoria Malfoy_

**Tuesday, July 24, 2018**

_Dear Headmaster Higginbotham,_

_We are accepting your invitation for our daughter, Daphne, to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry beginning 1 September of this year. Please add her name to your rolls and send any necessary documentation and forms to us so that her entry may go smoothly. Please ensure that, included in those forms, is the form for Madam Pomfrey to contact us if Daphne should need any medical treatment while at Hogwarts._

_We are very excited that this opportunity is being extended to Daphne, but we understand that the world she is entering will be very different from the one in which we currently live. Please also forward any information on any programs designed to make that transition as smooth as possible._

_Finally, is there anyone at your school who is willing to answer a new student's questions before the school year begins? Daphne has quite a few questions and we'd like to see them answered by someone in authority, instead of fellow students who may not always know the correct answers. Or, to be honest, who may get tired of her enthusiasm._

_Thank you in advance for your attention to these matters._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Dudley and Sophie Dursley_

Sophie looked over the letter one more time before she sealed it. She really hoped there was someone who could answer all of Daphne's questions. The Potters had been doing their best, but Daphne was coming up with ones that were stumping them. And driving her parents mad in the process.

**Wednesday, July 25, 2018**

_Dear Rose,_

_I GET TO GO!!!!!!!!!!! I GET TO GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I GET TO GO!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_I want to bring my laptop with me, and I want to get on the net. I may not be able to manage it all this year, but I'm not giving up. So, can you please send me everything you know about how electronics and magic don't work together._

_Is there anything the professors don't tell you about that you should bring? You know, am I going to be hopelessly behind if I don't have makeup (which Mum and Dad won't let me have, but, you know) or certain clothes or anything. Should I bring biscuits or something for the first night? That kind of thing?_

_How can Mum and Dad send letters to me? I know I can send them owls, but can they send them back?_

_I'm so excited! I can't think of anything else! I get to go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Daphne_

**Thursday, July 26, 2018**

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,_

_Thank you for your timely response to our letter. The initial acceptance letter lists all necessary equipment for your daughter's first year at Hogwarts; if you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to contact either myself, the Assistant Headmistress, Professor Aurora Sinistra, or the Hogwarts Muggleborn Family Liaison, Mr. Draco Malfoy._

_Mr. Malfoy will be contacting you within the next week or two with some additional activities designed to help your daughter and your family understand the Wizarding world and what you can expect. Please contact him if you have any questions or suggestions about these activities._

_Again, thank you for allowing your daughter to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We look forward to seeing her on September 1._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Pernell Higginbotham, Headmaster_

**Friday, July 27, 2018**

Sophie was grateful that Harry had warned her that the telephone number Draco Malfoy had given her might not be picked up quickly. She waited through fifteen rings before she heard Mr. Malfoy's voice. With a wince, she pulled her phone away from her ear and said, "Mr. Malfoy, please, I can hear you perfectly well at a normal volume. You're going to burst my eardrums if you keep shouting that way." She warily returned the phone to her ear.

His voice was still a little louder than necessary, but at least it didn't hurt. "Are you certain? It seems impossible that you could hear me on this. It's not like I can see you."

Sophie sighed. Apparently she was first person the poor man had ever spoken to on the phone. "Yes, I can hear you perfectly well. This is Sophie Dursley; usually I would have started out with that. Dudley and I were planning on having my family over and explaining about Hogwarts, but Harry said something about the Official Secrets Act. He wasn't sure how it would apply. What can I say to them?"

"Official Secrets Act?" Mr. Malfoy sounded confused, but then he said, "Do you mean the Statute of Secrecy? Since they're family, you can tell them about Daphne's going to Hogwarts, although we recommend you consider carefully who you tell. The Statute is to prevent Muggles in the general population knowing about the Wizarding world; you're welcome to tell your family. Did I hear that Daphne will be going to Hogwarts?"

"I'm surprised the whole world hasn't heard," Sophie said dryly. It was all Daphne had talked about since they'd sent in the acceptance.

Mr. Malfoy chuckled. "It's great to hear how excited the kids get. We're trying to arrange a Diagon Alley shopping trip, probably next weekend. I know you've been with the Potters, but you're more than welcome to make a second trip."

"I'll think about it," Sophie said. "Can you send me a copy of this Statute? I'd like to know what we're getting into here."

"Of course," Mr. Malfoy said. "I'll just have to find a copy; it may take me a couple of days."

"Thanks," Sophie said and hung up. Thank heavens Hogwarts had a liaison; she had no idea how parents like herself had managed in the past.

**Saturday, July 28, 2018**

_Dear Mrs. Dursley,_

_After our discussion of yesterday, I did some research on the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, which went into effect in 1692, and I've attached a copy of it for reading 'pleasure'. Good luck with that._

_In general, the Statute was laid down in 1692 to protect and hide wizards from Muggles. You may or may not be aware of it, but at that point in history, wizards were burned. I haven't heard of any burnings, but none of us are too confident that that means they've stopped permanently. (It doesn't appear to be very common, since no Muggle or Muggleborn I have spoken with has ever heard of a contemporary example.)_

_Today, the Ministry generally tells those who ask that the Statute is in place so that Muggles don't come to us asking for magic to solve every little thing. Personally, I believe that the Ministry is simply preventing panic in our population._

_Although you are asked to not mention magic to anyone who isn't a wizard or closely related to one, I have never heard of, nor found any examples, of anyone being prosecuted for simply telling someone they shouldn't. Every example I have found of the Statute's enforcement has been when magic has been performed or magical beasts have been witnessed._

_Finally, the wizarding world places the highest emphasis on the sanctity of the family. You most certainly have the legal and moral right to tell your family what you wish, with the full protection of the law behind you._

_Enjoy your family get-together and let me know if any questions come up._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Hogwarts Muggleborn Family Liaison_

**Sunday, July 29, 2018**

Dudley turned the burgers he was grilling over, more than ready for the day to be over. Sophie's brother and his family were over and, as usual, her sister-in-law was driving him mad. It started when she gave Tom that stupid religious book she expected Tom to be happy about. It wasn't that Dudley and Sophie weren't raising their kids to be good Christians, but there was no reason to get silly about it.

When Steve came out to help, Dudley gave him a side-long look. "You do know that Tom will never read that book. I mean, it's a nice idea and all, but . . ."

Steve grinned. "I have to admit; I'm impressed. I'm not sure any of mine could have been that polite about getting a book."

With a shrug, Dudley said, "Tom likes books for the most part."

"So," Steve said, pulling out the cheese, "one day when he gets really bored, he'll read some. That's Denise's thing anyway."

Without looking at his brother-in-law, Dudley asked, "Why is she so determined to be godly? I mean—"

"Actually," Steve said interrupting, "it's both of us, and it's just being good people. Y'know, 'As you do to the least of them, so you do to me.' The rest is . . . important, but taking care of others comes first. Hey, did you see that game last night?"

Dudley settled down for an enjoyable argument about the football game.

When he carried the burgers into the house, Sophie gave him "The Look"; she was going to tell them about Daphne. Dudley reminded himself that there had been more going on with Harry than he'd realized at the time, and gave her a smile. He suspected it was rather sickly.

"You will never guess what we've been going through this month," Sophie said as she passed a bowl of fruit salad to her sister-in-law, Denise. "Daphne got an offer to attend this school we'd never heard of. When everything was said and done, we found out she's a witch."

Steve frowned. "If you've never heard of the school, why would you believe them? I mean, magic isn't real, is it."

Sighing, Dudley said, "It is. And I'd heard of the school. My cousin, Harry, went there when he was Daphne's age. I just didn't expect any of my kids to be like him."

Denise squealed. "So, go on and show us, Daphne. Let's see some magic."

"Don't you dare!" Sophie said. Turning to Denise, she said, "Sorry, but Daphne's underage; she'd be breaking the law to do any magic."

"Doesn't the Bible say 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live'?" asked their oldest son, Arthur, grinning at Daphne.

To Dudley's pleasure, Rich started to stand to defend his little sister, but Denise beat him to it. "You behave yourself, young man," she said, staring at him until he'd ducked his head and muttered an apology. "That's the King James translation, anyway," she said to Daphne with a kind smile. "Gorgeous poetry, but as a translation it has a lot of problems. The word they translate as 'witch' really means something else. Poisoner, I think, or something else horrible. As long as you don't try poisoning anyone, you're fine. It's not like you're selling your soul to the Devil or anything." She suddenly frowned. "You're not, are you? It hadn't occurred to me, but you're sure that there's no evil component to it? You haven't signed any contracts or . . . done anything odd?"

"The only thing's any of us have signed are the admittance forms," Sophie said calmly, "which are actually less involved than they were for Rich, and the millions of letters that have been flying between our house and the Potters."

"They have evil," Dudley admitted slowly, "just like we do. But they fight it as well. My cousin . . . If it worries you, we can have him talk to you. He's a . . . I forget the name, but it's something like a police detective. Head of them, in fact."

Steve said, "Sounds like it's genetic or something. Anyone else in your family, Dudley, other than Daphne and this cousin of yours?"

"His mother, my aunt Lily," Dudley said, "and her husband, of course."

"For the genetics, he wouldn't count," Steve said, looking thoughtful. "Probably a recessive. Hey," his face lit up, "that means one of ours might have it, too."

"Not Arthur," Daphne said primly. "You'd have heard already; they send out the letters when you're eleven."

When Dudley shuddered, Denise noticed and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm just remembering when Harry got his letter. Well, letters. I thought Dad was going mad there for a bit."

"What was the story behind that?" Sophie asked. "You never told us."

Dudley told them the story of Harry's letters and found that, now that he understood what was really happening, the story was actually pretty funny. By the time he got to the description of the giant knocking over the door, he was acting it out, to the giggles of his three and Steve and Denise's four boys.

When he was finished, Denise sniffed. "I'm sorry, Dudley, but it seems to me your mother needs to remember her parables." Dudley didn't pay enough attention to know what she was talking about; a fact Denise well knew. "The parables of the talents, of course. I'd have to look it up to get it just right, but basically it tells us that God expects us to use the gifts he's given us, not just store them away for a rainy day. So, you pay attention in your classes, sweetheart, so you can use all your God-given gifts." Daphne proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon telling anyone who would hold still everything she'd already learned.

When they left, Dudley heard Denise tell Daphne, "I'll send you my copies of the Narnia books. They're good Christian books about magic; they should stand you in good stead."


	6. Week 5

**Monday, July 30, 2018**

Matt checked his backpack for what felt like the millionth time. He wasn't sure how far away Hogwarts was-he wasn't even sure he could find Hogwarts-and he had no idea what he should be bringing, but he was bringing everything he could think of that mattered. He had enough clothes for seven days, his Bible, all the cash he had and, buried at the bottom, his favourite stuffed bear. He would have liked to bring some food, but his mother would be sure to catch him if he tried that. He took a deep breath and let it out in a _woosh_ as he looked at his last hope.

_Dear Matt,_

_I don't know what you're trying to do. I guess this is looking for negative attention if you can't get positive, or whatever your mother's always quoting at me, but I can't believe your mother isn't feeding you right. She's positively obsessive about your health. So write to me about what this is really about, okay, sport?_

_I can't override your mother about the school-thing. That __bastard__ judge decided that she got full custody and she certainly won't listen to anything I have to say. I wouldn't worry about it too much; I've never heard of this Hogwarts, so it's not like it's some great school._

_I'm not going to be able to see you until September. My job's sending me out of the country and, well, there's some personal stuff going on as well. I hope to have some good news for you soon; maybe you won't be an only for too much longer._

_Take it easy, be good for your mum, and remember, you'll always be my son._

_Dad_

Matt shook his head. It looked like he'd have to rescue himself. As he snuck out the front door, easing it closed as quietly as he could manage, he thought about the note he'd left his mother, hoping she wouldn't be too upset.

_Dear Mum,_

_I'm sorry. I guess I'm evil after all. I just can't do this anymore. I'm going to Hogwarts to see if they'll still let me come._

_Tell Dad _

_I don't want to hurt you. Please be happy and say a prayer for me._

_Love,_

_Matt_

**Tuesday, July 31, 2018**

Breakfast in the Malfoy household was usually a quiet meal. Although all of the family, all five of them, were expected to be present, conversation wasn't required, and appropriate reading material was permitted. Draco smiled a little as he remembered Greg's first overnight visit, when Narcissa had had to find a polite, but blunt, way of explaining that comic books were not "appropriate reading material".

There were no such problems this morning, of course, since it was only the family. Letters, papers and work were all being read and examined in restful, companionable quiet. Unfortunately, the quiet was broken by one of the house elves, saying, "Master Malfoy, your secretary is in the Floo."

After confirming the thing meant him and not his father, Draco excused himself to go into the study. "Yes, Irene, what's so important that it can't wait until I come in?"

Irene was usually very steady and hard to upset, so her shaking voice had Draco concerned even before she said, "There's one of those Muggle Aurors, those, er, erm-"

"Policemen," Draco pronounced correctly.

"Yes, them," Irene said with a nod. "He's asking questions about the Muggleborn students. Well, the one. Little Matthew Mitchell. He's gone missing and his mother thinks he might have contacted us. What do I tell them?"

"The truth," Draco said. "We haven't heard from him; none of us have spoken with him since the first meeting. No matter how wrong we think she is, we won't go against the parents on this." Before she turned away, he added, "Don't tell them we're wizards, though. We're a specialty school who were alerted to Matt's talents and we offered him a place at the school." He calculated distances, and Muggle transportation. "Tell him I'm heading in and I'll be there in about an hour. Let me know if he gives you a problem."

Draco was tempted to say something to the others about how stupid it was _not_ to insist that Muggleborns attend Hogwarts, or another magical school, but that would set his father off on how stupid it was to let Muggleborns in at all. Instead, he walked back, gave Tori a kiss on her cheek and, as he was ruffling Scorpius's hair, he said, "Something's come up that I'll need to take care of personally. I'll see you later."

He didn't rush in, collecting the appropriate papers, but it still took him less time than he would have needed to drive a Muggle car in. He finally decided that, if questioned, he could always say he'd been on his way in. Those Muggle telephones worked almost everywhere.

After Apparating in a nearby alley, he walked into his office to find Irene fluttering. She introduced Draco to the Muggle Auror, no, policeman, whose name Draco promptly forgot. He gave the man his best "superior to hard-working inferiors" smile and said, "Shall we discuss this in my office?" Noticing that he already had a cup, he asked Irene, "If you could bring me a cup of tea and a refresher for our guest." He turned to the man and asked, "Can we get you something else, a roll or something? I expect you frequently don't get the time to eat properly."

"No thanks," the man said, beaming, "but it's nice of you to offer. Most of your sort, well, you wouldn't think of it."

Draco kept his relaxation invisible, but he was relieved that he was now squarely in the "good" camp of the man's thinking. "Now, why do you think we might be involved?"

"His mum's grasping at straws," the policeman said, shaking his head. "Even she doesn't really think your lot've done anything, but she's hoping you might have heard something. He'd wanted to come to your school, y'see, even though she was dead set against it. In the letter he left, he said he was going to try to go to you. Would there have been someone else he would have contacted?"

"Unfortunately, I'm the only person associated with Hogwarts that Mr. Mitchell has had any contact with," Draco said, wincing at how little he was going to be able to help. "I gave Mrs. Mitchell my card but I suspect she tore it up. She was so adamant . . ." Draco shook his head. "What about his father? I remember that they were separated; maybe the boy went there."

"Divorced, but he's getting ready to leave the country." The policeman shook his head. "His last letter looks to be what set the boy off. There's no friends we've been able to find, either; the boy's a bit . . . odd. Could he have found something on the internet? He had some access to a computer."

"No," Draco said, but then stopped. "I don't think so. We pride ourselves on our adherence to tradition, but . . . Could you give me a few minutes? I'm trying to think . . ." Then the answer hit him. "Wait a minute; I have a couple of ideas." He walked out to Irene and said to her, keeping his voice too quiet for the policeman to hear, "Can you explain what's happened to Auror Potter? I know he's worked with the Muggle policemen before. We can't use the Floo while he's here, but if you could go in person." Irene looked at him with huge eyes and left.

Then, he pulled out his list of this year's Muggleborns and studied it for a minute. Potter's cousin would probably be the easiest to explain this to. He carefully punched the number into the telephone's "dial"-which didn't look like a dial at all-and waited for an answer. When "Dursley" came over the receiver, he said, "Mr. Dursley, this is Mr. Draco Malfoy, for Hogwarts."

"Morning," Dursley said, sounding cheerful. "Have you set up that shopping trip? Daphne's come up with at least a dozen things she has to have, and she's been driving Sophie spare."

Wishing he could chuckle, that girl was quite the handful, Draco said, "Not yet, but I think we'll be able to set it for next weekend. The reason I'm calling is, can you find anything about Hogwarts on the 'internets,' I think it's called?"

"Just one of 'em," Dursley said, "and that's more than enough. Er, Google doesn't find anything, but let me ask Daphne. I think I heard her saying something about a group. Can I ring you back here?"

"Of course," Draco answered, "and thank you." He turned back to the policeman. "Sorry, we seem to keep hitting dead ends."

"I'll give you credit for trying. More'n most people'd do." He gave Draco a shrewd, piercing look. "Makes me wonder why."

Draco sighed. Even when he was being completely honest and above-board, he was suspected. Reaching behind him, he pulled the photograph he had on display of his family and turned it around. "My son is a year older than Mitchell," he said. "If something happened, if he got himself into trouble, I'd be hoping other people would be helping me move heaven and earth to help him. How can I do less?"

The policeman took the photograph and smiled as he looked at it. "Good-looking boy. Y'say he's twelve? And his mum's a looker, too. I'd say you're a lucky man, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco took the photograph back. "Thank you. I-" How to put this into Muggle terms without discussing wars and battles. "When I was just a little bit older than my son, I got myself into a situation and nearly died. Other people's . . . mercy saved my life. One of the conditions was that I pass it along."

He smiled as he remembered McGonagall standing straight and tall and looking down her nose at him, telling him, "You will be allowed to return to this school on the strict condition that you assist the Muggleborn students adjust to life here. Especially those who suffered at the hands of the Death Eaters and their followers." She was still tough as nails, but she smiled at him when he visited her these days. Thin-lipped, but it was a smile.

Looking back up at the policeman, Draco smiled. "It was probably the best thing that could have happened to me, and they would have been completely justified in locking me away for the rest of my life. So, a little extra time to help look for a child is nothing. And, frankly, this child is my responsibility."

Standing, the policeman nodded. "I'm suspicious of people who spend a lot of time helping with no thought of return. But paying it forward, that I can believe." As he turned to leave, he nearly ran into Harry Potter, who was barrelling into the office. "'Scuse me, sir."

"Ah, hello," Potter said, blinking at both the other men. "Er, you're DI Sanderson? Hi, I'm Harry Potter, with MI5 Special Forces. I'm an old schoolmate of Malfoy's here; he called me in thinking I might be able to help. Malfoy?" It all came out in one long burst that reminded Malfoy of little Daphne Dursley.

"Good morning, Potter," Malfoy said, trying not to laugh. "I'm glad to see that your reputation for grace and elegance is warranted." The policeman looked between the other two, looking as if he wanted to get out before the fight started. This, er, DI Sanderson had asked if I'd heard anything about Matthew Mitchell. He's one of the non-legacy students in this year's class, the only one who declined our invitation. Apparently, he'd disagreed with his mother over the issue and she believes he ran away to come to us. Unfortunately, finding missing people plays more to your strengths than mine."

Potter shook his head, looking annoyed. "Sorry, your secretary made it sound like someone was in imminent danger." He took a deep breath and turned to the policeman. "DI Sanderson, can you go over the case for me? There's probably not much I can do that you lot aren't already, but I'm here."

Sanderson shook his head. "Wouldn't think Special Forces does much with runaway kids, but I'll take as many eyes as I can get on this one. I've got a feeling about it, y'know."

Draco could almost hear Potter's back straighten, as his old nemesis looked at the Muggle sharply. "Based on what? Anything concrete?"

Sanderson shook his head. "I couldn't put it in a report, but . . . Mother says he's been on a religious fast, but the kid keeps writing his dad complaining about being hungry. All the neighbours complain about all the weird stuff that happens around him, and his mother was talking about evil. I'm hoping we find him, and not . . ."

Potter nodded sharply. "Got it. Can I see what you have? Or, better yet, can you present it to me?" He glanced over at Malfoy. "If I had a Gal-, er, a pound for every time one of my people have put the pieces together while presenting the case to me, I could probably buy England."

Sanderson laughed. "Done it a few times myself."

Before he could go any farther, Potter held his hand up. "Hang on a sec. Malfoy, has anyone notified the Headmaster?"

Draco reminded himself that he was a businessman and not an Auror. Still, "No, I haven't, damn it. Let me get Irene to do that." He opened the door and asked Irene to notify the Headmaster's office of Mitchell's disappearance. "Sorry, should have done that first."

"Couldn't find Hogwarts listed anywhere to get a number, or I'd've done it already," Sanderson said, looking a little curious. He opened the file he had and took a deep breath. "We got a call from Judith Mitchell, Matthew's mother, this morning. She woke up to find him gone and a letter telling her that he was evil and he was going to Hogwarts. While waiting for us to come, she found a couple of notes from his father, essentially saying that he couldn't do anything." The policeman shook his head. "She had quite a bit to say about the father; no love lost there. We've been trying to reach him to talk with him, but he's on his way out of the country and unreachable." He took a deep breath. "In several of the letters, Matthew mentions that his mother has him on a fast to get the evil out of him. That's apparently been going on for a couple of weeks." Shuffling through the papers, he said, "No one's seen him in those couple of weeks. His mother says he won't talk to their minister, and that's it." He gave Potter a look Draco couldn't read.

Potter swore. "So, we have only the mother's word that he's even been alive for the past couple of weeks."

"His voice has been heard."

"Have dogs been brought in?"

"Yeah, but they live in a flat." Sanderson sighed. "They're not getting anywhere." He suddenly swore. "Mr. Malfoy, this is all confidential. I shouldn't have said anything-"

"I'll take the responsibility for that," Potter said. "Malfoy knows to keep his mouth shut about this, right?"

Draco felt sick. "I should have known-"

Potter's voice was harsh. "How? You did the best you could. Believe me, I've been talking to the Mu-, erm, non-legacy students, and I've been hearing nothing but good things. And you know I've been listening for it." At the policeman's concerned look, Potter grinned. "We hated one another when we are at school, and haven't had much to do with each other since. But he's actually grown up."

Draco reminded himself that telling Potter exactly what he thought was going to be completely counterproductive. "Gee, thanks."

Sanderson snorted. "So, is there anything Special Forces can do, Mr. Potter."

Potter looked at the ceiling for a minute while he thought. "We can try. I need a piece of clothing, the larger the better and it'd be better if it hasn't been washed. And, no, we're not using dogs," he said before Sanderson could interrupt, "but some of the principles are similar. I have to go back to my office for some equipment; can I meet you at your station in," he glanced at his watch, "say half an hour?"

"I'll have one of the officers there give it to you," Sanderson said. "We took a couple of pieces. I have a few other people to talk with. When can you tell me what you find? And, well, I hate to bring it up-"

"We're assisting," Potter said, smiling. "Your case, your credit. Why don't I call you, say, around five? Or sooner if I find something." He reached into his suit coat's pocket. "Here's my card, if you need to reach me or you need it for the paperwork."

Sanderson nodded and pulled out two cards, giving one each to Potter and Draco. "Anything you find, I'd be grateful for. This one feels bad."

After the policeman left, Draco looked at Potter. "Is there anything we can do?"

"There is a spell we've been working on," Potter said, "that might be able to track him down. It works on a person's magical signature. It's still in the testing stages and it hasn't been given a real field trial yet." He scowled. "It looks like today's the big trial." He straightened up and looked at Draco. Potter's expression was grim but it didn't appear to be aimed at Draco, who thought his own expression was the same. "Thanks for bringing me into this; if the Muggles can't find him, maybe I can, before it's too late." He held out his hand for Draco to shake.

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "I'm coming with you. I'll do whatever you say, and I'll keep my mouth shut around the Muggles other than to direct them to you, but I feel responsible and I'm coming."

"Malfoy," Potter said sharply, "you don't belong on this case. You're a civilian, with no idea of the protocols or problems or-"

"Which is why I'll keep my mouth shut and defer to you around the Muggles," Draco said. "But if you won't bring me along with you, I'll just start looking on my own. Since I don't have your new spell, I'll have to go looking for solutions in our library. Somehow, I think you'd prefer Dark Arts not be used on this case." Before Potter could tell him off for using illegal magic, or just arrest him, he continued, "I've met the boy. Short, thin, dark hair, big eyes. Reminds me of this kid I used to know, whose son is my son's best friend. It's-" He took a deep breath and admitted, "I've been having nightmares about the boy. Shut up in a-"

"All right," Potter said. He looked furious and Draco knew he was fully aware of the manipulation. Still, it was true; Judith Mitchell had been bothering him since their first meeting. "But you do exactly what I say, or I'll lock you up until it's over." Before Draco could say anything, he continued with a grim smile, "Protective custody, for your own good. Kingsley'll sign off on it in a second. We don't want a prominent citizen using Dark Arts after all."

Draco nodded, accepting the conditions. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he could do anything, but he couldn't just stand by and wait. He told Irene that he'd be out for the rest of the day and followed Potter out.

At the entrance to the Ministry, Potter stopped. "Wait for me here. I'm not explaining you to every Ministry worker in the building."

Looking around, Draco pointed to a nearby newsstand. "I'll just buy a paper while I wait." Potter left without acknowledging the comment.

The newsstand was a Muggle one. Draco bought a paper, _The Sun¸_ and started reading. He was so engrossed, mostly in horror, that he almost missed Potter.

"Do you often read that rot?" Potter asked, sounding amused.

"Muggles take this seriously?" Draco asked.

Potter shrugged. "It's no worse than the _Prophet_," he said. "Now, I don't want you coming into the police station with me either; it'd really look strange and we want to try to avoid creating more questions." After Draco nodded, Potter took off at a fast walk, clearly knowing where he was going. It wasn't long before they were standing in front of an imposing building. "Here's the station. You wait here; I hope not to be long."

It was just under an hour before Potter came back out, his face even grimmer than earlier. "What's happened?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," Potter said. "It's just that none of them believe we're going to find anything but a corpse." Before Draco could ask, Potter said, "Nothing that they're saying, not yet, but you get a feel for these things." He brandished a jacket and looked around. After a minute, he held out his hand and walked toward a taxi and gestured for Draco to get in.

It was the filthiest, most horrible type of transportation Draco had ever used. It took Potter a minute to notice Draco's expression. "Don't worry," he said, "after this we can use Apparition, but we have to take a reasonable amount of time to get to their flat."

Potter had the taxi drop them off a block away from the Mitchells' flat. Once the vehicle was gone, Potter stepped back into an alley, pulled out the jacket and cast a complex spell. After a few minutes, he pulled out a map and made to marks. Then looking at Draco, he said, "I'll have to Side-Along you; I'm not getting the kind of coordinates I can pass on to you."

After they'd repeated the process half a dozen times, and Potter was starting to look strained, Draco asked, "How far are we going each time?" He conjured up two chairs to give the Auror a rest.

"Thanks." Taking a deep breath, Potter said, "It's not a real good connection. I'm only getting a mile or so each time." He looked at the map and muttered, "I wish Hermione were here. She'd figure out where to look."

Draco resisted rolling his eyes. Hermione Granger wasn't the only intelligent wizard in the world. "What information are you getting?" he asked.

"He's about twenty miles out of the city," Potter said. "I can get a pretty good fix on distance, but location is a bit dodgier. That's why we're taking the shorter hops; I can keep from going too far in the wrong direction."

Draco nodded and looked at the map. So far, they'd been moving in a fairly straight line heading north. "Where's the boy heading?"

"We don't know," Potter said, sounding exasperated. "He doesn't know where Hogwarts is."

"Not exactly, but I did mention it was in north Scotland," Draco said. "If I were in charge, I'd find the most likely looking road heading north and go twenty miles out of the city on it. If we're no closer, or further away, then we come back here."

Potter grabbed the map and looked at it. "Wish I'd known you told him where Hogwarts is an hour ago," he muttered.

"Sorry," Draco said, hoping Potter could tell he did mean it. "I didn't think it was important. I thought everyone knew that."

"With a few exceptions, most Muggles don't even know it exists. Before I went there, I didn't know where it was. The letter didn't say," Potter said, grinning a little at Draco's shock. "But if he knows he's heading for Scotland, that's a good idea." He stood up. "Here we go."

"Wait a minute," Draco said before Potter could Apparate. "Since I know where we're going this time, why don't I do the Apparation? Save your energy for the ones where you're feeling your way."

Potter looked surprised, but nodded. Draco banished the chairs and Apparated them.

They were on the side of a motorway, neither especially empty or crowded. Potter cast the spell again and grinned. "Good thinking," he said. "We're closer. A lot closer. Short jumps again, but I think we'll have it in a couple."

Four Apparations later and they were standing beside an empty side road. There was a bit of an incline on one side of the road; after Potter cast his spell, he made his way down it. Draco walked over and looked down. About ten feet from the direction Potter was heading, he saw a trainer sticking out from a bush. "Potter," he called.

Potter stopped and looked to where Draco was pointing. A few minutes later, he was kneeling by the bush. "Can you conjure me up a blanket?" he called.

Draco did and then made his way down the slope. "Is he all right?" he asked.

"I think so," Potter said, taking off his jacket and laying it over the boy. When Draco got to him, Potter took the blanket and covered the boy with that as well. "His pulse and breathing are strong and regular. Hey, Matt," he said, shaking the boy, "can you wake up for me?"

The boy pulled the blanket over his head. "No."

Draco and Potter shared a smile. "Right," Potter said. "Draco, can you come down here and try to get him up? I'm going to start with the cover stories." He stepped away, pulling his Muggle telephone from his pocket and began speaking quietly into it.

Draco concentrated on Matthew. He was a little dirty, and much too thin, but otherwise he seemed fine. "All right, Mitchell," he said, using his sternest voice, "it's time for you to get up. No more malingering."

Matthew's eyes opened a little, but when he saw Draco, they opened wide. "Mr. Malfoy?" he said. "Can I come to Hogwarts? Please?"

"We'll be talking with your mother," Draco said, "but running away's no way to get anything. Can you sit up?"

"Yeah," the boy said, although he needed to steady himself as he did so. "I just got tired." He sighed. "Do I have to go home? Mum hates me and Dad doesn't care."

"Hey, there," Potter said. Draco hadn't heard him return, but he was there now, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Your mother doesn't hate you; she just doesn't understand. It's hard for some people. Now, would you like to see some magic?"

The boy's eyes lit up. "Can you show me some?"

"Oh, Merlin," Draco groaned.

Potter laughed. "Don't worry, Malfoy. No embarrassing spells today. D'you want to keep your paper?" When Draco raised his eyebrows at him, Potter grinned. "No, huh?" He took _The Sun _from Draco's jacket pocket and pulled out his wand, tapping it on the paper." Turning to Draco, he said, "I've got everything squared away so we can take Matthew straight to St. Mungo's."

"What's St. Mungo's?" Matt asked, his eyes huge as he stared at the paper.

"It's our hospital," Potter answered. "Now, we all need to be touching the paper for the spell to work, all right?"

Matthew nodded, hesitantly touching the paper with one finger. Draco took the boy's hand and placed it firmly on the paper, holding it in his other hand.

Potter sighed.

"What's wrong now?" Draco asked.

"I hate Portkeys," Potter said. As Draco started to tell him they could Apparate instead, Potter continued, "And Apparation and Floos and just about everything else. As far as I'm concerned, Muggle transportation is much superior." He scowled. "But it's not as fast." Before Draco could say anything, Potter tapped the paper again and said, "_Portus!_"

After Potter's obvious distaste for Portkeys, Draco was expecting a rough landing. Instead, even Matt could stay on his feet when they landed in the reception area. Potter walked directly to the witch in charge and began talking with her in a low voice before she could begin to scold them. After a minute, she nodded. "Come with me."

She led them to a room on the second floor with only two beds. The other bed was occupied by a sleeping boy with green and purple polka dots over all of his skin that they could see. "Make sure you don't touch him," she said, "he's very contagious.

Matthew's eyes were huge. "What's he got?" he asked in what he apparently thought was a whisper.

"We're not really sure," the witch said as she left the room, "but there's quite an outbreak of it. One of the Healers will see you soon."

"I'm not really sick or hurt," Matthew said once she'd left. "You can just take me home."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Potter said, standing upright with his shoulders back. "Any time a wizard child runs away from home, we Aurors conduct an investigation to confirm that the child should remain in that residence. That will include a complete physical examination and several interviews to determine the reasons you left and the validity behind them."

Draco wanted to punch Potter; he was scaring the child. "You don't punish children for running away from home, do you?"

Potter's stance relaxed a little. "No, of course not. Most of the time we don't find anything wrong and everyone goes home. It's mostly just precautionary, but it's the parents we're investigating."

"Mum didn't do anything wrong," Matthew insisted. Draco was impressed that Potter's expression didn't change with that statement. "And neither did Dad. I'm just bad."

Potter pulled up a chair and nodded to Draco that he should sit as well. "I read your letter, but I have to admit that I don't understand. Your mother says you've always been a good kid. I haven't been able to talk with your father yet, but I'm sure he'll say the same. So why would you think that?"

"The Bible says so," Matthew said, drawing into himself. "Mum loves me and didn't want Satan to get me, but the temptation's just too strong."

Before they could ask him any more questions, the Healer arrived, a big bear-like man. He sent Draco and Potter out of the room to examine the boy. While they waited, Draco asked, "You act like you know what he's talking about."

Potter shrugged. "There are a couple of verses in the Bible that have been interpreted the way he's talking about. It's one of the reasons for the Statute of Secrecy, why there were ever witch burnings in the first place. I'll need to talk with his mother, and probably whatever minister's gotten involved, and straighten things out." He scowled. "Poor kid. I just hope his parents can be reasoned with."

"I don't understand," Draco said scowling. "I've never heard of this before."

"It's not something you'd be exposed to in the wizarding world," Potter said, "and this is the first time you've been heavily involved with the Muggleborn kids before they start Hogwarts. It's not as common an attitude as it used to be; only the most radical would believe this." He shrugged. "I'm kind of surprised that Aunt Petunia never pulled it out, to be honest about it."

The Healer walked out into the corridor. "He's asleep," he said. "I'm Cadoc Riley, and I'll be treating the boy." He looked down at his notes. "Nothing much wrong with him. He's a little malnourished, but nothing a couple of good meals won't solve; he's exhausted, which is largely because he hasn't been sleeping, stupid kid. We'll keep him here overnight no matter what's decided, but he can leave tomorrow or we can keep him here." Ignoring Draco, he looked at Potter. "Any idea how you think this is going to go?"

"Not sure yet," Potter said. "One of my people's interviewing her now, but I haven't got the report. My gut tells me this is a matter of a little education, but-" He shrugged. "You know how it goes."

Riley nodded. "Let me know when the decision is made, yeah? I like to know how many beds I have for the kids."

"Will do," Potter said, reaching out to shake the Healer's hand. Draco did the same and followed Potter out.

Once they'd left St. Mungo's, Potter turned to him. "Look, Malfoy, you've been incredibly helpful in all of this, but it's time you left the experts to their job." Before Draco could object, Potter continued with, "If you want, you can come with me tomorrow when we bring Mrs. Mitchell to see Matthew tomorrow about ten, but it's an official case now."

Draco could tell that pushing Potter wouldn't get him anywhere, and he liked to think that he'd grown up enough to know better than to try just for the reaction. "I am involved in this, though," he said, in case Potter had forgotten. "He's still one of the Muggleborns eligible for Hogwarts in September."

"Which is why I'll let you meet us here tomorrow," Potter said. His voice was calm, almost neutral. Then he unbent a little. "If things go as I hope they will, you'll be helping get everything set up for him, but until then, you're a civilian and I'm a professional." Then he held out his hand. "Thanks for thinking of me; I don't know if I'd go as far as to say we saved his life, but-"

The implication was clear: they very well might have. "Just thinking of the boy's best interest," he said, schooling his face to a polite smile and shaking Potter's hand. "I'm glad I could be of help."

"You were," Potter said with a smile, "and if the Mitchells have any sense at all, they know it too." He waved and Apparated away.

The witch from the reception area by the lifts came up to scold Draco, but she would find nothing to scold him for. "You needn't worry," he said coolly, "I know that I don't have the authority to Apparate in and out of here. I'll be leaving by the lifts." She scowled as she watched him go.

1/31/10


	7. Week 6

**Wednesday, August 1, 2018**

The sensation of walking through the shop window was horrible. Judith supposed it wasn't Mr. Malfoy's fault that he didn't know how it would feel to her; he didn't seem to have noticed it at all. And the reception area was truly mad; people with unnatural growths, children turned unnatural colours, one man who appeared to be halfway to becoming a teapot. She edged closer to Mr. Malfoy and asked, "Is this normal?"

"It's quite a bit busier than usual," he said with a frown. "But it's a school holiday; that might have something to do with it." He glanced at her and then turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You needn't worry; you're perfectly safe here. Most of the unusual changes just need to be reversed; that's why they're here."

"This won't happen to Matt?" she asked. Bad enough to have magic, but to have to endure one of these things . . .

Mr. Malfoy shrugged. "I can't promise, but it's certainly not usual. The staff at Hogwarts does their best to keep the hexing to a minimum, and they're very good at sorting the ones that still happen." Then he seemed to see the horrified look she knew she had on her face. "Look, Mrs. Mitchell, there will always be teasing and fights and such. We do keep it to as little as possible, but kids will be kids, yes?"

Judith knew that all too well, and that Matt was all too often the victim. Maybe if everyone was "weird" like him, it wouldn't be as bad.

As much as possible, she tried to ignore the people around her in the corridors and lifts. After several minutes that felt like days, Mr. Malfoy finally stopped at a room and said, "This is Matthew's. As I told you, our Head Auror, Harry Potter, will be there to talk with you both."

"And an Auror is?"

"The nearest equivalent is policeman," Mr. Malfoy answered. "They're much respected in our community, and Head Auror Potter is especially so."

"Because of his rank," Judith didn't quite ask.

That brought a rather wry smile to Mr. Malfoy's face. "The other way around, to be honest. He's my age and young for the post, but our community feels much safer with him there." He patted Judith's shoulder. "Don't worry. He's a good man, and the father of three himself. And here we are," he said as he opened the door.

There were two beds in the room. Matt was in one of them, looking pale, too thin, and rebellious. The other bed was empty, but there was a boy about Matt's age sitting in a chair putting on a pair of trainers and listening to a lecture from a woman that had to be his mother. Judith didn't really understand it, except that it involved "experimenting", "potions", and "those dreadful jokes". The woman looked up as Judith and Mr. Malfoy entered the room. Judith met her eyes and quailed before the glare she was given. "Come on, we need to leave," she said as she pulled her son from the chair. The boy waved to Matt as his mother dragged him from the room.

The only stranger still left in the room was a man in bright red robes. Wizard robes, she assumed, maybe even a uniform. He was tall and slender, with black hair and green eyes behind glasses. He looked more like a schoolteacher than a policeman, she thought. He held out his hand to her. "Good morning, Ms. Mitchell," he said as he shook her hand. "I'm Harry Potter, the Auror assigned to your son's case. Malfoy," he said as he shook the other man's hand. From the way Mr. Malfoy had described him, Judith had assumed he and the Auror were friends, but Auror Potter's voice was cool.

"Judith Mitchell," she said, hearing her voice shake. "Pleased to meet you." Finally, she was able to really focus on the important person in the room. "Mattie, I'm so, so sorry; I had no idea; I was wrong; you're such a good boy, please—" she couldn't say any more. All the tears she'd been holding back, first to find Matt and then with the joy of hearing he'd been found and the disapproval of the police for her when they'd told her he was being kept overnight in a "special" hospital and she wouldn't be able to see him until, well, now. She sat on the side of his bed and reached out a hand to his cheek. How had she missed how thin he'd become?

To her delight, Matt flung himself into her arms and just clung. For several minutes neither of them spoke, just sobbed in each other's arms. Finally, Matt pulled back and started wiping at his eyes. Judith saw him give the two men glances through his eyelashes, probably to see how much they disapproved of his breakdown.

They'd moved to the doorway and were talking quietly to each other, giving Judith and Matt their privacy, she assumed. When he saw Matt's glance, Auror Potter smiled and stepped forward, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket of his robes. "You're pretty tough," he said, "my Al would probably still be wailing. Of course, Ginny would still be yelling at him while sobbing herself, so no surprises there."

"Your family expresses itself loudly; who would ever have guessed?" Mr. Malfoy murmured. He gave the Auror's glare raised eyebrows and a mild, mocking smile. "So, what's next?"

The Auror had pulled a notepad from his pocket, looking more like a policeman every second, and made a note. "From everything I've heard from either of you, this whole mess started because of a mistranslated verse of the Bible—"

"Mistranslated!" Judith interrupted him. "It's in plain English!"

"Which isn't the original language it was written in," he said, his voice still mild. "It was first written in, er . . ." he shrugged. "I've forgotten. You were reading the King James translation, correct?"

"OK," the Auror said. "I've got one of the alternate translations of Exodus 22:18; that's the one that says, 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.' Another translation would be, 'Any woman using unnatural powers or secret arts is to be put to death.'" He looked up from his pad. "If you like, the pastor of the Hogsmeade Church would be happy to discuss any concerns you have with any passages in the Bible. As you can imagine, he has lots of experience with that."

"Why?" Judith asked. She felt as if a great burden were being lifted from her. If she assumed that magic was a God-given power, which was at least a possibility, then Matt was safe.

"Hogsmeade is the only wizarding town in England," Mr. Malfoy answered. "Everyone there is a wizard, including the pastor, although that doesn't sound Church of England to me."

"Presbyterian," Auror Potter answered. "It is Scotland. So, here we go. Matt, do you want to go home?"

"If I can eat," Matt said, his voice so small. Judith felt herself begin to cry again. How could she have been so blind?

"Is the fast over?" Potter asked Judith. His voice was harder now. Judith could hardly blame him. She nodded, unable to speak. "OK, then there's one more thing you have to agree to before you can take him home."

"What? Anything," she said, feeling desperate. It wasn't like she exactly blamed them, but she wouldn't do anything to hurt Matt. Intentionally, she thought as she struggled to stop crying.

"You have to sign this agreement that he will be starting at Hogwarts in September," the Auror said. He pulled a thick set of papers stapled together and held them out to her.

She took them and looked, but that was really all it was. An agreement that Matt would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry beginning in September and that he would be provided healthy food whenever he was hungry. As she signed, she tried out a joke. "Well, at least now I have a reason not to buy junk food. This says healthy food."

Mr. Malfoy's bark of laughter sounded surprised; Auror Potter's amused. All of them stopped smiling when Matt said, "Sounds fine with me."

She handed the papers back to the Auror. He took them, glanced at them and nodded. "You'll be getting visits from Mr. Malfoy and myself, and probably at least one of the school's staff," he said. He was standing a little straighter and looked more formal. "We'd strongly recommend you try to make at least one of the outings Mr. Malfoy is planning."

Judith nodded. She'd expected to have some supervision; this was more than reasonable. "Oh, no," she said as something occurred to her. "We missed the tour; that would have been perfect. I just…" she trailed off.

The two exchanged a glance and Mr. Malfoy shrugged. "We may be able to arrange something a little less structured," he said, "without Asp demonstrating swordfights in the middle of lunch."

"Swordfights?" Matt asked, perking up. That time, all three adults exchanged a look and laughed.

**Thursday, August 2, 2018**

_Dear Mrs. Potter,_

_I know you are aware of the difficulties some Muggleborn youngsters face when invited to attend Hogwarts, and how many of them are refused their right to attend. I am having a luncheon meeting this Sunday to discuss the situation and begin to develop some solutions to this difficult problem. Your knowledge of the difficulties is invaluable and crucial to developing any successful solution. I hope you will be able to attend._

_Sincerely,_

_Astoria Malfoy_

Ginny stared at the letter in horror. She was all for helping youngsters like poor Matthew Mitchell; fortunately, it sounded like a little education was all that was needed there. Harry had been able to set up an appointment between Mrs. Mitchell and the pastor in Hogsmeade; he thought that might be the end of her objections at that point. It read as if Mrs. Malfoy, however, had decided that the problem was epidemic. She threw some Floo powder into the fire and called for Hermione.

"I see you got one, too," Hermione greeted her. "Have you actually spoken with her?"

"No, but Harry's been answering lots of questions from Malfoy." Ginny shrugged. "He hasn't been hearing any questions that really bother him, except for the comments about abuse. Malfoy said that Muggles abuse their children much more than wizards do; Harry was able to show him statistics that prove that wrong."

"More?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head. "It's about the same, actually; it's just never publicized. But other than that, Malfoy's seemed pretty reasonable about the whole thing. He's visiting the Mitchells daily, probably will until school starts, but he took this whole thing very much to heart. Harry said he was really blaming himself for missing that there was a problem."

"I hope that's all this is," Hermione said. "But to quote the great Han Solo, 'I've got a very bad feeling about this.'"

"We'll go and hope that this is just an overreaction," Ginny agreed. "Did any of the others get one?"

"You're the first one I've spoken with," Hermione said. "You call Angelina, I'll call Fleur and Audrey."

"OK," Ginny said. "By the way, who's Han Solo?"

**Friday, August 3, 2018**

"We just don't seem to be able to get away from each other," Harry said, as he opened the Floo to the Malfoys. "Ginny wasn't sure if this was still on, with the lunch thing tomorrow."

Malfoy looked impatient. "They could be left alone for a couple of hours if it was necessary, but it's not. I should be home all day tomorrow, as will my father." When Harry grimaced, Malfoy sighed, "He likes your son but even if he didn't, there's no way he would let any harm come to a guest under his roof." Before Harry could argue _that_ point, Malfoy said, "You weren't guests; you were prisoners. Very different thing. Asp will be a guest."

"And you have to call him that?" Harry asked, more for form than anything else. He wished he'd checked out the initials they'd given Al; he hated that nickname. Unfortunately, Al loved it.

"It is the name he prefers to be called," Malfoy said, clearly enjoying Harry's reaction to that. "I'm considering an outing to some Muggle historical sites tomorrow; do you have a problem with that?"

Harry shrugged. "Not as long as he's supervised. Al hasn't spent a lot of time in the Muggle world; he'd probably be fascinated. Al!" he called over his shoulder. "Aren't you ready yet?"

"Coming, Dad," Al said as he ran into the lounge, carrying his schoolbag. It was much fuller than it needed to be for two nights. "Just some school stuff," he said, "a couple of books and stuff. Can I go?"

Malfoy chuckled. "Come on through, Asp. Sunday afternoon, any particular time?"

Harry grinned. "Not really. I suspect you'll be ready pretty early."

Malfoy's smile was a bit gentler. "My father's not the only Malfoy adult who likes Asp." Al stepped into the fireplace and through to the Malfoy's. "Safe and sound," Malfoy said as he brushed ash from Al's shoulders. "Enjoy the peace and quiet."

"I still have two kids at home," Harry said. "I've forgotten what peace and quiet are."

Malfoy was laughing as he stepped out of the Floo.

**Saturday, August 4, 2018**

"Would everyone please find your seats and come to order?" Tori Malfoy called. "I'd like to get started." After a few minutes of milling around, everyone was seated. Tori looked around and smiled. "First, I'd like to thank everyone for such a great turn-out. I'm impressed and proud of my community." There was hearty applause over this while Hermione's stomach started churning. "For those of you who don't know the situation, one of this year's first years, a Muggleborn, was being mistreated because he's a wizard. Now, it was mostly a misunderstanding that's been addressed. He's fine and being treated well. However, it brought a potential problem to my husband's and my attention and we wanted to assure that no other child is caught in the same situation. Here's what I see as the problem: the Muggleborn children who are allowed to attend Hogwarts aren't the problem; we can keep an eye on them. It's the children who are prevented from attending; they're the ones who could be in terrible trouble that we don't even know about, that we can't stop. I don't have any solutions; this is to start the ball rolling."

Hermione stood and, to her relief, Tori beamed at her. "Please, Hermione, come up. I know you'll be crucial to any solutions we find."

Hermione reminded herself that the Malfoys were politicians whatever else they were and smiled as she walked up. While she was walking, Tori said, "The first person we're going to hear from is Hermione Weasley, a name I'm sure you all know well. Before her marriage she was Hermione Granger, and she's Muggleborn herself, so I'm sure she has a very good grasp of the problem." Hermione had reached the front by then. Tori led a little round of applause and sat down, giving Hermione the podium.

"Thank you, Tori, and all of the rest of you," Hermione said, with her "professional" smile on her face. "First, I do want to say that I think the case you're speaking of was handled as well as possible. Certainly bringing in the Aurors as quickly as he did was the best thing your husband could have done." Tori's smile softened a little.

Hermione was glad she'd been able to say that; the rest of this was likely to annoy people. "As far as the rest of it goes, I honestly think you're creating a problem where one doesn't exist. Now," she continued as several of the women began whispering angrily to one another, "I don't say it's a bad idea to contact those children who decline their Hogwarts letters again; things change and people have second thoughts. That would catch most of the children Tori and all of us are concerned about. But it's not a large problem." She glanced down at the notes she'd made from her research. "From a quarter to a third of every year at Hogwarts is Muggleborn. Of those children, every year from one to four decline their invitations. The reasons given are that the school isn't known, that magic isn't believed in or isn't important, that the school will cost the family too much, and that the family has other plans for the child."

Looking up, she continued, "From my own personal experience, that first one's a big problem. It's finally being addressed; this year for the first time there was a tour of Hogwarts for the Muggleborn families and, with the one exception, all of the acceptance letters had been received within a week. Mr. Malfoy, who is the Hogwarts Muggleborn Liaison, is to be commended for his work, because that tour had a lot to do with that result." She stopped for the applause; he really did deserve it. "When my parents heard about it, they were talking about how they wished there had been something like that when I got my letter. It was very hard for them to send me to a school they'd never seen nor heard of. If I hadn't attended Hogwarts, it would not have been because my parents didn't want the best for me; it would have been because they did."

Pausing again to let the whispers die down, Hermione reminded herself of what she wanted to accomplish. "An additional contact to the families that decline, right before the school year and at the end of the first year, might not be a bad idea. I don't think we'll find much in the way of abuse, but I suspect that many of those would attend Hogwarts in the end. I also think that, if we continue such things as the tour, there will be even fewer who decline." She looked around the room and tried to make eye contact with as many of the women there as she knew. "Thank you." She stepped down and walked back to her seat.

She'd barely left the podium when Tori stood up again and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. That puts matters into perspective." She led another spattering of applause as Hermione got back to her seat. When she was seated, Ginny leaned over and murmured, "That was a good idea, to throw in the compliment to Malfoy. She puffed up like a peacock."

"He deserves it," Hermione murmured back. "They should have been doing that for years."

The next woman to go up reminded Hermione of Pansy Parkinson; Tori introduced her as Violet Norman. "It sounds to me like one good idea would be to pair each of the Muggleborns of a year with a wizarding family; someone they can go to with their questions. I just don't . . . " She trailed off for a moment, and then asked, "How do you send correspondence to a Muggle? They don't use owls and they don't use Floos, but they must have something."

When no one else answered, Hermione stood up. "They do use post, and once they've received that first letter, our owls won't be such a surprise. As for the Floo, they have a device they call a telephone which I think are vastly superior to the Floos for communication, if not for travel." She had pulled her mobile from her purse before she'd stood up; now, she held it up. "No ash to deal with." That got a laugh.

Mrs. Norman smiled. "Well, that makes it all easier." She paused for a moment. "Why don't we use these telephones? They sound ever so much better."

Hermione laughed. "Unfortunately, magic and electronics don't mix well. I can only use this when I'm not in a wizarding location."

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Norman said. "If there's a wizarding family paired with these people, we can keep an eye on things and make sure the children are safe and everything is done properly."

To Hermione's exasperation, that was the way things went. No matter how often she and the other Muggleborn women present made the point that, although one child had been endangered, he had been the exception and not the rule, the others seemed determined to see a problem. After over an hour of this, Hermione was shocked when Molly Weasley stood up after a Muggleborn woman had tried to make the same points.

"My daughter-in-law, Hermione, is absolutely right when she says that most Muggleborn children are as safe, loved and well-cared for as our children are. That includes the ones that aren't sent to Hogwarts; I know how terribly difficult it is to send your child to someplace unknown; Hermione's parents have expressed exactly that for years. It was such a relief to them when we met the first time and they could really ask questions. I agree that pairing families together is a good idea; we saw ourselves how much more comfortable they were when they knew what was happening where Hermione was." She smiled at the table where her daughter and four daughters-in-law were sitting. "However, I've also seen the other side of it. The first time I saw Harry Potter, he was all alone at King's Cross, where he'd never been before, too small and thin for his age, in clothes that were too big for him. Now, his situation is complicated, but I don't believe he's the only Muggleborn who was mistreated for years before they even hear of Hogwarts because they're 'different'. If I can do anything to prevent any other child suffering that way, I'll do it."

As Hermione listened to the whispers, she remembered how her mother had always fussed after picking Hermione up at King's Cross. She'd gone as far as lodging a complaint, but Dumbledore had found out and had stopped it and then explained to Hermione's parents why he had to stay where he was. But that story would just alarm the other women more; that even Muggles found his treatment something to try to stop would confirm everything they were thinking, even if those Muggles had a witch for a daughter themselves.

She finally decided she was just going to have to be blunt about her concerns. Once she'd made way back to the front, she looked out at this group of women who just wanted to keep children safe. "Look, I know you're all wondering why I'm trying to rein this in. Even as a child, I felt much the same about Harry growing up. His circumstances were even more unusual than the boy who started all of this; I hope it never happens again." She waited for the inevitable whispers, agreeing with her this time, died down. "What concerns me, no, what scares me to death, is that this goes from 'helping Muggleborn children in trouble' to 'Muggles hurt their wizard children' to 'Muggles hurt their children' to 'Muggles are evil'. I just want to make sure we stay focused. Please, let's remember that, first of all, we're all human beings and most of us want to keep all of the children safe and sound."

As she stepped down, Tori looked at her, a strange expression on her face. "That wouldn't really happen, would it?"

"It has," Hermione answered. "Over and over and over again."

The meeting broke up shortly after that, with women signing up for different committees. Hermione signed herself up for each one; if she couldn't stop them, maybe she could keep this from snowballing out of control.

**Sunday, August 5, 2018**

Sent from Malfoy Manor at ten in the morning.

_Dear Daphne,_

_My parents have been discussing one of the boys in your year who was being mistreated by accident. (Sorry, I didn't get the details, and they won't discuss it when they know I'm listening.) There were some things they kept saying that bothered me. Do your parents feed you? Are they angry that you're a witch? Was there a problem with your attending Hogwarts? What's all this about the Dursleys and your cousin Harry?_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Scorpius Malfoy_

Sent from the Dursleys' home in Little Whinging at seven in the evening.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Huh? My parents are OK; the worst they've ever done is take my computer away. For a whole weekend! Because I didn't do my stupid maths homework! (Because it was stupid!) They're thrilled I'm a witch and excited about Hogwarts._

_There is something weird about Gran and Gramps and Uncle Harry, but Mum says she doesn't know the whole story and Daddy won't talk about it. Not really._

_Mum just got the letter last night that your Dad's scheduled a shopping trip for __all__ the students in our year at Diagon Alley next weekend. I can't wait. There was also something about a Quidditch match. Mum's not sure we'll do that; I don't think she wants me to get interested. I won't want to play cause I don't like heights, but Mum says "better safe than sorry". Does your Mum say annoying things like that too?_

_It's sweet of you to worry, but you're being silly. Mum says boys are._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Daphne Dursley_

Scorpius looked at Daphne's answer as he got ready for bed. She didn't sound at all upset, but there were still some things to worry about. What was a computer, and what did losing it for a weekend mean? And not wanting Daphne to get interested in Quidditch? He decided he'd show the letter to his father in the morning. He'd know what to do.


	8. Week 7

**Monday, August 6, 2018**

"We got another letter from Mr. Malfoy today," Sophie said as Dudley changed out of his work clothes. "They've set the Diagon Alley trip for this Saturday. Lunch at that little pub, then shopping for the children's school supplies and then a snack at the ice cream parlour before we leave. Sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"Doubt if they really want more of a crowd there than is necessary," Dudley said, glancing at Sophie as he put on his slippers. "Think the boys and I might stay home."

"Why would you want to do that?" Sophie asked, scowling. "We're supporting Daphne, or have you decided to agree with your parents on that?" Her voice was starting to rise, which Dudley really didn't want.

Dudley glared. "It's shopping," he said. "When have I ever wanted to go shopping? I've already been to that place once, not really looking forward to doing it again. You've both been there, know your way around. We'll give Daphne a little extra, let her go wild in the book shop, and I'll keep the boys here, out of trouble and out of that joke shop. Don't you think that'll work better?"

He wasn't sure which would be worse, fighting with Sophie or losing another Saturday to shopping. "Hey, if they're not starting until lunchtime, maybe you two girls can go get pampered a bit. If she's going away to school, she's old enough for a little of that, and you can combine bonding and pampering. What do you think?"

Sophie's expression said she saw right through him, but would let him get away with it in exchange for some premium pampering. Dudley gave himself a pat on the back until he thought about how much this would cost him. Still, better to keep the peace.

Daphne was sitting in the lounge with stack of her new schoolbooks and her laptop, busily typing away. Dudley sat down next to her and asked what she was doing and tried to listen to a twenty-minute discussion about spells, potions and the general unfairness of life that electricity and magic don't work together. Then she looked up at Dudley and asked, "Daddy, why does Scorpius keep asking if I have enough to eat?"

Dudley felt his ears get warm. "Your grandparents and I didn't treat Harry very well. It probably has something to do with that."

"He said he heard his dad say something about witches and the Bible, too. He keeps asking if I'm all right." Dudley looked up as Sophie walked into the room.

"It's probably nothing, sweetheart," she said as she looked at Dudley. "Now, clean up this mess you've made."

That evening, before working out how much cash to give Sophie for the weekend, Dudley wrote to Harry.

_Dear Harry,_

_Daphne's been getting some strange questions from Scorpius Malfoy. Do you know what's going on there?_

_Dudley Dursley_

He hoped Harry would be confused by the question.

**Tuesday, August 7, 2018**

Draco handed the latest list of responses for the Diagon Alley trip to Tori. "Does this mean anything I should worry about?" he asked. "Or is this just all the husbands doing their best to get out of shopping?"

Tori looked over the list. "It's all, well most, of the husbands trying to get out of shopping, and not needing entire extended families to be involved. There are some grandmothers and aunts, but mostly it's mothers and the children." She smiled. "I don't see anything to worry about. Do you have a problem with some of the women I know coming along to help and advise?"

"Not at all; it would be a relief," Draco said. "How are the committees coming along?"

"Well. I finally decided how to handle Hermione Weasley."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Are you going to put her on every committee? Really?"

"I'm putting her on all the major ones," Tori said, picking up her planning sheet and smiling at it, "and I'm going to recommend she run for one of the officers." When she noticed Draco's surprise, she smiled, "That woman will make sure that every one of the first years is safe and being treated well. She wrote me yesterday with the idea that we extend this to the wizarding children as well, which I think is a splendid idea."

"We don't need such a thing," Draco said, offended. When his wife just raised her eyebrows, he frowned, "Do we?"

"I don't know," Tori said, "but there are two possibilities. Either none of the wizarding children need any help, which might just quiet her for a bit, or we find out that some of them do, in which case I really want her with us. However it works out, I want her working with us; she is far too formidable to have as an enemy."

Draco winced. As a child, new to the wizarding world, with few friends and no allies, Hermione Granger had been formidable. As an adult, comfortable with her powers as a witch, married into a revered pureblood family, with allies among the most powerful and influential in their world today, she wouldn't be formidable; she'd be an extraordinarily dangerous enemy to have.

"Exactly," Tori said when Draco said that out loud. "So, I recommend she pass up the minor committees, put her on all the important ones, install her as an officer, and get her invested in making this organization work." She rolled her eyes. "Although I refuse to allow her to name it. She sent several ideas, each worse than the other."

"Did you ever hear about SPEW," Draco said, grinning, "or was that before your time?"

"I heard about it," Tori said, smiling back. "Her ability to name groups hasn't improved. However, if she's invested with us, she's likely to stay with us and work with us. It may not be quiet, but it will run much smoother than if she creates her own, separate organization."

Draco nodded. Just about anything was likely to run better with her on their side.

**Wednesday, August 8, 2018**

Judith was relieved as she opened the post; Simon had sent the cheque for Matt's school supplies. "Matt," she called.

"Yes, Mum," he answered, still a little wary as he walked into the kitchen from his bedroom. It made her heart ache.

"I just got the money from your father," she said, "so I can let Mr. Malfoy know that we'll be joining the group on Saturday."

Matt's face lit up. "Great! I've been making a list of everything I'll need. How's it going to work?"

Judith finished writing the sentence in her reply to Mr. Malfoy before she answered. "He said that he's asked a number of parents of current students to help out; he's trying to match families that are similar together."

"So, we might be matched with a boy?" Matt said, grinning. "Hey, didn't Potter--"

"Mr. Potter," Judith corrected. "Or Auror Potter; I never really did get that straight."

"Sorry," Matt said. "Didn't Auror Potter say he had kids at school? Maybe they'll match us with him."

Judith did her best to keep her wince internal. "I'm hoping they match us with a family who doesn't know quite as much about what's been happening this summer," she said. She added the sentiment in a P.S. to the response she was writing and closed up the envelope. The little brown owl that had brought the letter in the first place seemed happy to take its response. "You know, this little guy is pretty cute; I wonder if there's enough to buy one."

Matt looked up sharply. "An owl? For my very own?"

"Would you take care of him? Or her?" Judith asked as she watched the little bird fly off. "It's not like one of your video pets; it will really die if you don't feed him."

"'Course I'll feed him," Matt said, looking as if this was the most ridiculous warning he'd ever heard, even after Judith had given him a hard look. "Really, Mum, and I'd love having an owl. I'd be able to talk with my new friends when we're not at school." His face fell. "D'you think I'll be able to make friends at Hogwarts?"

"Everyone keeps saying it should be easier," Judith said, "since they'll be like you. I should think so. And, Matt," she gave him a stern look, "if it doesn't work out, if you don't like it there, we can discuss changing next year, or even mid-year. I'm still not sure about this place."

"I'm sure I'll like it," Matt said, his eyes wide.

"You probably will," Judith said, not wanting to worry him anymore. "But just in case, keep it in mind."

She looked at the church's newsletter. As she'd thought, they did have services on Wednesday night. She'd talk with her regular minister about the entire thing and see if he agreed with the people at that hospital and the Hogsmeade pastor. She'd just feel better if it came from someone who didn't use magic.

**Thursday, August 9, 2018**

After listening to the plans for Saturday's shopping trip for the whateverth time, Harry was ready to scream and was completely in agreement with Dudley. "Are you sure you need me along on Saturday?" he asked Ginny as he helped her put the food on the table. He was careful not to whine because, if he did, there was no question that he'd have to go.

Ginny gave him a look that said she'd seen right through him. "We really do," she said. "First, just with our three, it's easier with two sets of eyes. Hermione'll probably be talking Tori Malfoy's ears off the whole time, so she'll be distracted. Usually, she's as good as two people all by herself, but not on Saturday. Ron won't be there because, with this many people shopping, he'll have to be at the shop. The Malfoys'll be trying to keep track of everyone and could use more eyes. Nope," she said, popping the 'p', "sorry, love, you're just going to have to suck it up and come along."

"Can we check out the Quidditch shop?" Lily asked, looking up from her job of setting the table.

Harry and Ginny laughed. With the two of them, the kids never really had to twist their arms to look at anything Quidditch. "I think we can arrange that, sweetheart," Harry said as he kissed his daughter on top of her head. "Saturday's your birthday!" he said to Ginny, just realizing it.

Ginny smiled. "Which is why Hermione's taking the kids home with her after," she said, smiling at Harry. "So you can treat me extra-special for the night."

"Ew," James said as he sat down at the table and pulled the bread plate to him. "I don't want to know."

Harry grinned, grabbed Ginny and dipped her low, kissing her enthusiastically, and loudly, as he did. As he pulled her up, Al walked into the room. "I thought Mum's birthday was on Saturday?" he said, frowning. "I'm not ready."

"Thanks for warning me," Harry said, laughing as he pulled Ginny back up. "I'd almost forgotten."

"They'd've reminded you at work," Lily said serenely. "You're considered one of the most romantic husbands in wizarding Britain." When Harry looked at her, she smiled, "So says _Witch's Weekly_."

Shaking his head, Harry sat down and served himself the potatoes. It was an awfully good thing Ginny didn't believe his press; he wasn't very good at romance. He watched her put more meat on Lily's plate; she was 'watching her figure', but Ginny wasn't about to allow that. Lily was more than thin enough. "I may not be very romantic," he said to Ginny's laughing agreement, "but you're even more beautiful now than when we first started dating."

"At least you didn't say 'than when we first met'," Ginny said.

Harry nodded. "You were a pretty little girl, but . . ."

James mock gagged and the normal discussion of the day continued. Harry sat back, listening, talking and so very grateful for his family.

**Friday, August 10, 2018**

Listening to the muttering coming from his wife, Ron knew that he'd have to actually ask what the problem was. Some muttering he could ignore, but not this. "Hermione, what's the problem?"

"I know she's got some hidden agenda, something that's not obvious," Hermione said, glaring at the letter she was reading.

"Who?"

"Tori Malfoy," Hermione answered. "She didn't choose any of the names I suggested, but that doesn't really surprise me." It didn't surprise Ron either; he could still remember SPEW. "Something's just not right."

"Did she take you off any of the committees you signed up for?" he asked. He rather hoped she had; he hated it when Hermione got too involved in a cause.

"No," Hermione answered. "Well, actually, yes, but none of the important ones. The Clean-Up Committee and ones like that. She's even suggesting I run for one of the offices. Vice President or Secretary."

"Not President?" Ron asked. After all the work Hermione would put into it, she would deserve President.

"I think Tori's planning on herself for that one," Hermione said. She didn't look terribly upset, so Ron didn't think he needed to worry about it. "She suggested Secretary because then I'd be keeping the records. So we'd stay honest. What do you think she means?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe it's nothing more than she says." When Hermione opened her mouth to argue, he said, "Look, she's actually worried about the problem; that's why she's trying to start this group. She's trying to pull you into it. Well, no one who knows anything about you would think you were going to do anything but try to protect the kids, right?"

Hermione nodded. Reluctantly.

"So," Ron continued, "she's heard enough about you to know that you work hard and you're successful when you care--"

"Sometimes," Hermione said with a scowl. Ron was afraid she was remembering SPEW.

"A lot of the time," Ron corrected her. "So, she wants the group to succeed, she knows you'll be interested, so she's trying to get you involved right from the start."

"You really don't think she's trying to keep me out of things?" she asked. Her forehead was crumpled with thought; it was too cute for words. Ron had to kiss it. "Stop it, you!" she said, but she was smiling and laughing now.

"I don't think she'd be suggesting Secretary if she wanted to keep you out of things," Ron said. She was starting to relax; maybe a good snog wasn't out of the question. "Vice President, maybe, but that'd mean she doesn't know much about you. This," he picked up the letter, "says she's done her research and wants you on her side."

Hermione was back to frowning, damn it! "Should I be?"

With a sigh, Ron shrugged. "As long as you're both heading in the same direction. At least you'll be able to keep an eye on things. Now," he tugged at her waist, aiming her toward his lap, "shall we entertain each other until bedtime?"

"Mmmm," Hermione said as she accepted his snog and returned it with interest. For about five minutes, he enjoyed a nice leisurely snog. Then she pulled back. "I need to make sure I know Robert's Rules frontward and backward," she said as she stood up.

Ron watched her leave sadly, making sure to get a good look at her arse as she left. Ah, well. At least he'd known what to expect before they got married.

**Saturday, August 11, 2018**

"So, what did the most romantic wizard in Britain do for his wife?" Hermione teased as they waited at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Is there a special wizarding Valentine's Day or something?" Sophie asked.

Ginny laughed. "No, today's my birthday and some reporter decided to give Harry the most romantic wizard title. I don't know about most romantic," she said rubbing her nose. "My teacup bit me this morning."

"What on earth?" Tori asked.

"My very first birthday after we got married," Ginny answered, "Harry put a ticket for a weekend away on my dinner plate. I wasn't thinking about it and started serving myself." As the other women laughed, Ginny grinned. "Fortunately, he'd thought ahead and had put an _Impervius_ charm on it, or we'd have had an awful time using it, but ever since, when he leaves a gift on the dishes, he adds a charm so I can't use it until I've retrieved the gift. And he likes teacups," she added with a grimace, rubbing her nose.

"So," Hermione said again, "what'd you get?"

Ginny shook her hair over her shoulder and showed off her new emerald drop earrings.

"Oh, those are lovely!" Sophie said. "Harry has good taste."

"No," Ginny said, "Harry knows my favourite jewellery store, and they know me."

Draco smiled as he watched the scene. For all the complaining Ginny was doing, she was clearly delighted at the earrings. He'd have to remember the teacup idea, although he'd come up with something better than biting. Maybe singing a love song? Tori would enjoy the romance of that.

Looking around, it appeared that everyone had arrived, at only ten minutes past the hour. Clapping his hands together, he called out, "All right, everyone, if you would please find your places. There are place cards at every setting; please find yours. If you can't find yours, come up here and I'll help you out." There was a general commotion as everyone who hadn't already found their place went looking. Draco smiled contentedly. Fourteen out of fifteen families were present; all but the Joneses who were on a cruise this week. Mr. Jones had handled all of his daughter's school shopping by owl post; Draco suspected she was disappointed at not going shopping, but she hadn't seemed very surprised.

Once everyone was seated and the salads were served, Draco stood up. "Again, this is the first time we're trying this, so we'd appreciate your suggestions to improve for next year. You'll have noticed that we have some more families this time. All of the new families," Tori had suggested he not use 'Muggle' as a way of differentiating, "have been paired with a more experienced one. We've tried to ensure you're matched with someone who has a similar background and we hope this helps when looking for the supplies. So, get to know one another and enjoy your lunch." He sat down and turned to Mrs. Foreman, who immediately started asking Tori about the quality of the various supplies. He turned instead to her son, John, who asked about joining the Quidditch team. Draco and Scorpius exchanged a happy smile and started describing the best game of all.

*

There were four families seated at Judith's table. She and Matt had been matched with an older woman named Violet Norman. Her youngest son was entering his seventh year; he was busy with interviews for an apprenticeship for after he sat his NEWTs, so she was shopping without him. "I think it's simpler, to be honest," she told Judith. "When the children come along, you wind up spending so much more."

"Tell me about it," Ginny Potter said, laughing. "Other than for robes, it's easier without them along." Judith had been surprised that she was at the Potters' table. The Head Auror hadn't said anything about what had happened last week; he'd simply smiled and introduced his lovely wife and their three children. The children were as well-behaved as children that age ever are, but they were lively and into everything.

"Mum," whined their younger son, who seemed to have a bewildering number of names. "We have to come along to make sure we have the essentials."

"I'm perfectly capable of buying enough quills and parchment," Ginny said, clearly teasing her son.

"Yes, and she has the list the school sent as well," Violet said, going along with the joke.

"I'm sure the shopkeepers will let her know if she's missing anything," Sophie Dursley added. Judith was still trying to figure out how the Potters, who were clearly an old wizarding family, had Muggle relatives like the Dursleys. Sophie had explained when they first sat down that her husband and sons had opted out of the shopping trip, although they were still hoping to see a Quidditch match.

"Ignore 'em, Asp," James Potter said, rolling his eyes and poking his younger brother. "They're just teasing."

"What did you think when Mr. Malfoy visited you about Daphne?" Judith asked Sophie.

"He didn't," Sophie answered. "Because Harry and Dudley are cousins, they just sent a letter. Of course, they had no way of knowing that the only member of the family who knew anything about magic was Dudley." She shook her head. "I found it almost impossible to believe until Harry visited and showed us some magic."

"It was great!" Daphne said, grinning.

Her mother rescued the juice Daphne had nearly knocked over. "It was, but I would have loved some warning. How about you?"

Judith could feel her cheeks warm as she looked down at the table. Before she could say anything, Violet patted her on the arm. "I'm sure it was a terrible shock," she said kindly. "I can't even imagine finding out something like that about my boys. And so late," she continued. "Seems to me they ought to tell you as soon as the little one's born; they know that early."

"They do?" Judith asked, and realized that Sophie had at the same time. Matt had looked up for a minute but had gone back to talking with Albus.

"As soon as the child's born, his or her name is written in a book at Hogwarts," Violet explained. "That's how they know who to send the letters to when it's time. I don't see why they can't contact the families immediately."

"Y'know," Ginny said, "that's a really good question. Harry?"

Her husband shrugged. "No idea. Ask the Headmaster; he should know. Unless it's one of those old traditions that no one knows where, why or how it started." He frowned. "It really is a good idea."

Sophie had pulled out a pad and pen. "On the list of questions it goes. Now. . ."

Judith finally relaxed; it was clear that only those people directly involved knew what had happened with Matt. It was nice not being judged for every misstep, and Violet was treating her very kindly, explaining everything.

*

Malfoy was confirming that all the books he'd listed on the booklist were still available when Hermione Weasley found him. "Malfoy," she said, "why did you put the Mitchells with Violet Norman? What do they have in common?"

"A little more softly, please," Malfoy said, keeping a pleasant smile on his face, as he pulled her into a corner. Then he cast _Muffliato_. "A little respect for people's privacy, please. Now, what do you know about the Mitchells?"

"I know they're in danger of being used to discriminate against the Muggleborn students," she said, scowling.

He shrugged. "I suppose it's a danger, but I don't think so. Now, did you know that Judith Mitchell lost her mother not quite two years ago?"

The seeming change in topic threw Mrs. Weasley off. She shook her head and let him continue.

"I thought it might be nice to pair her with an older woman who could be, well, maternal towards her," Draco said.

"She's also sure that all Muggles mistreat their children." Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were narrowed.

Draco sighed. "And now, by meeting the Mitchells, she'll get to know them, see that the real problem is a mixture of ignorance and isolation, and realize that the best way of stopping further trouble is to make Judith realize that her son is in excellent hands at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley," he continued, "Mrs. Norman not only attends her local church every Sunday, she's very involved. Just last week, she was trying to get donations for . . ." He trailed off as he realized he couldn't remember what her last cause had been.

Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley picked up on his plan. "She's involved with her church?" she asked. "That's why you paired them."

"In addition to hoping that Mrs. Mitchell will go to her with her questions?" Draco nodded. "Yes. Judith Mitchell wants her son safe, from evil as well as everything else." He shook his head. "I have no idea how she's going to deal with Quidditch."

"I agree with her on that one. All right, I'll accept that you're trying to do what's best, but I'm keeping a very close eye on this situation."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Draco said, relieved that he was telling the truth. "However, can you please remember that the Mitchells are due their privacy, just like everyone else?"

The reminder obviously embarrassed her. "Yeah, thanks for ensuring that. I just didn't want her to be harassed."

"Nor I," Draco said. "Now, I don't know about your lot, but I think Mr. Foreman is the sort to try to find out where he's not supposed to be."

"And I think we may lose my lot if I don't go find them now." She smiled. Draco was surprised by how pretty her smile was. "Thanks."

*

A full day of shopping on Diagon Alley had Judith's head spinning. She was delighted to have been paired with Violet; the older woman had been through the entire process three times before and was thrilled to have someone to shepherd through it. She'd invited Judith and Matt to their church for services in the morning; unfortunately, the older woman lived in Fleggburgh, which was too far for them to reach.

"Are you sure you can't just Floo over?" Violet asked.

"I don't even know what that is," Judith explained.

Violet proceeded to explain about the Floo, which entailed throwing a special powder into a fire in the fireplace and stepping into another one. The whole thing sounded terrifying to Judith, although it was obvious that Violet found it completely ordinary.

"It just seems so strange doing without Floos," she finished. "Next weekend," she said after another minute, "why don't you come for a visit. We have plenty of room; Ned just took a flat with a friend of his from school. You can see what a wizarding house is like and come to church with us before you go home."

"Well," Judith said, very tempted.

Before she could finish her sentence, Matt was beside her. "Please, Mum," he asked, "it sounds great. And very educational," he continued, looking very prim.

"I'll think about it," she told him. He ran back off to look at the Quidditch supplies, which were surpassed in popularity only by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"He's quite the handful," Violet laughed. "Do come."

Judith thought. "Would you like to come to tea tomorrow and we can discuss it?" Then she realized, "There is a Floo close by, isn't there?"

"Of course, but I'll probably just Apparate." That involved another explanation.

Judith thought that in this case, wizards definitely had it better. "It sounds just like 'Star Trek'," which she then had to explain.

*

After spending the day getting the children completely wound up in Diagon Alley, with a special stop at the Weasleys joke shop for tasteless entertainments, Draco thought that finishing up at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was adding insult to injury. At least he only had to handle one of them after this. Even though it was no longer owned by a Fortescue, the new owners had kept the name. "And now," Tori murmured into his ear, "we wind them up on ice cream and send them home."

Watching everyone check over their purchases to make sure they didn't forget anything, exchanging addresses so that post could be exchanged, Draco smiled. Another successful excursion with no catastrophes. Judith Mitchell and Violet Norman appeared to be happily bonding with one another and he couldn't see any problems on the immediate horizon.

**Sunday, August 12, 2018**

In the Classified section of the _Sunday Prophet_:

All wizards: A new organization dedicated to strengthening the ties of family and community is being formed, the Knights of Walpurgis. It is open to all wizards within the United Kingdom. If you are interested, please contact Lucius Malfoy at Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire.

Draco strode into his father's study, ignoring the implicit request for privacy in the closed door. Waving the morning's paper, he asked, "Have you gone completely mad? What do you think you're doing?"

With a completely neutral expression on his face, Lucius looked at his son. "Exactly the same thing you're doing, Draco," he answered. "Doing what's best for our world and, most importantly, the Malfoy family. Shall I show you what I have in mind?"


	9. Week 8

**Monday, August 13, 2018**

Irene walked into Draco's office, her shoulders hunched. "What's wrong, Irene?" Draco asked.

"Mr. Potter is here to see you," she said. "He didn't say it was official."

Draco took a deep breath; he'd been expecting this. "Please show him in," he said, "and offer him refreshments."

Irene stood a little straighter and nodded, her professional demeanour back in place. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she said, "right away.

Potter walked in a moment later. "Malfoy," he said, holding his hand out for Draco to shake. "I expect you know why I'm here.

Draco nodded. "Of course. You do know he has every legal right to do so."

"Yes, however, the DMLE has both the right and the responsibility to ensure that this is not a prelude to the Death Eaters rising again. Can he assure us of that?" Potter's body language was doubtful at best.

"It's very hard to prove a negative," Draco said. "Did you read the announcement?"

Frowning, Potter said, "Yes."

"Well, then," Draco said, shrugging. When Potter didn't appear to understand, he said, "It's open to all wizards within the United Kingdom. That includes you and, for that matter, the entire Auror Department."

"Are you denying he's up to something?" Potter asked.

Before Draco could answer, Irene came in with a fresh cup of tea for him, another for Potter, and a plate of biscuits. When she'd left, he said, "No, I know he is. His stated purpose is to reform an old organization dedicated to family and community."

"That became the Death Eaters," Potter said.

"Not exactly," Draco said. Before Potter could interrupt, he said, "The Knights of Walpurgis were dissolved, by those who became the Death Eaters, so that it would be harder to fight the Dark Lord."

Potter didn't look convinced. Draco didn't blame him; the relationship between the two organizations was why the Knights weren't reformed after Voldemort's defeat. "You said 'his stated purpose,'" Potter said.

"He claims that's all he's interested in," Draco said. "I don't think he's trying to reform the Death Eaters, no Dark Lord to begin with, but I do think he's interested in regaining some of the power he's lost."

"Then why now?" Potter asked. To Draco's relief, his body language had relaxed.

"Because there's a cause he can claim is the motive," Draco said. "Potter, I won't pretend that my father's motives are pure, largely because I doubt they are, but the best way to handle the problem is for you and others you trust to get involved. That way, you're right in the middle of things. That's what I'm doing, because I won't let him hurt my family or our position in our community." He scowled. "I've worked too damn hard to let him destroy it."

Potter's smile was wry. "That, I can believe. So, if I round up Ron, Teddy, George, Arthur-"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Draco added.

"Mm, I think I'll wait to see how things go," Potter said, with more cunning than Draco'd realized he had. "At any rate, you think he won't give us trouble."

"That's exactly what I think." Draco took a large sip of his tea and started choking.

"Malfoy?" Potter started to stand.

Draco waved him to sit back down. "It's nothing. My secretary apparently thinks I need calming. It's chamomile."

Potter made a face and stood. "Thanks for your time. I have some owls to send, including one to your father. Good day, Malfoy."

Draco stood, ushered him out and went to get a better cup of tea.

**Tuesday, August 14, 2018**

Sophie let Dudley make himself comfortable in his favourite chair before she brought the day's post.

Dudley eyed the two letters she was holding suspiciously. "What's gone wrong now?"

"Nothing's wrong," Sophie said. "This," she held up the larger of the two envelopes, "is an invitation for all of us to attend a professional Quidditch match, hosted by the Malfoys, to introduce us as the family of a witch to the Wizarding world." She glared at it. "Tom was reading over my shoulder and he and Rich have already written James about what they can expect to see. If we're not accepting, you'd better be prepared for a fight."

Dudley shrugged. "To be honest, I'm glad they could arrange it," he said. "It sounds like a great game, a lot of fun. So, what's the second one about?"

Sophie shook her head. "I'm really just not sure. It's from Ginny Potter and . . . Here, just read it."

Dudley took the letter and read,

_Dear Sophie,_

_There are some things happening here. I hope they won't affect you, but I thought I'd give you a warning, just in case._

_There's a child, a Muggleborn child, who was being mistreated at home. Since no charges are being filed, I don't think they can call it abuse, but it could be argued either way._

_The issue is being addressed, and the mistreatment seems to have stopped. Unfortunately, it's brought to mind some of the things that happened to Harry as a child. All of the Muggleborn children are being watched closely this year, and Daphne will be watched even more carefully._

_Harry has said to anyone who asks that he's sure Daphne's well cared for; in fact, he's said that Dudley's opinions and attitudes had clearly been changing before Harry left the Dursleys. Some people, though, love to cause trouble._

_Just keep it in mind and be careful._

_Ginny_

Dudley sighed. "I suppose it could be worse," he said.

"Should we not go Saturday?" Sophie asked.

Dudley shook his head. "Worst thing we could do." He thought for a moment. "We take all three kids, make sure to stuff them silly and have a good time. I think that's our best defence." After another moment, he said, "We make sure all their clothes fit and are in good shape."

"I'll need to go shopping," Sophie said with a sigh. "Rich is growing faster than I can get new clothes for him." She smiled, although Dudley could see it was an effort, and stood straighter. "We'll have a great time on Saturday."

Dudley smiled at her. She really was marvellous. "However shall I thank you?" he asked, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Later."

**Wednesday, August 15, 2018**

_Dear Rose,_

_Are you going to the Quidditch match Saturday? Do you enjoy Quidditch? I'm not very sporty; is that going to be a problem? Should I bring a book for the boring bits?_

_Daphne_

_Dear Daphne,_

_I don't know if we'll be there. Daddy's trying to convince Mr. Malfoy that he needs to be there to explain Quidditch to the Muggles and Muggleborns. He was Keeper on the Gryffindor team when he was in school. They even had a song Weasley Is Our King!_

_Quidditch is great! There are no boring bits. Well, most of the time. Every once in a while, the Snitch disappears and it takes forever for the Seekers to find it, but usually you sit there on the edge of your seat screaming yourself hoarse. Even Mum cheers for Quidditch and she's not sporty at all._

_Who are you rooting for? I'm rooting for the Harpies because Aunt Ginny played for them._

_Dear Rose,_

_I'd forgotten Aunt Ginny played Quidditch! Are the Harpies one of the teams playing on Saturday? Are they a good team? (I mean besides being smart enough to let Aunt Ginny play for them.)_

_Daphne_

**Thursday, August 16, 2018**

Looking up, Judith snapped, "Watch where you're walking, Matt! Get your nose out of that book." She tried to see the front. "Which one do you have?"

"_Quidditch Through the Ages,"_ he said. "It's a classic; that's what Mr. Malfoy said."

Judith was getting very tired of the phrase, "Mr. Malfoy said".

Matt looked up with a worried expression. "We are going Saturday, aren't we?"

From his expression, Judith knew that if she said they weren't, he'd start pleading. "Yes," she said, grateful that decision had already been made. "Violet and her son, Ned, are going with us, so you be on your best behaviour. And don't go pestering me for stuff when we're there; things are always so expensive at games. I'll pack us sandwiches and I'll let you get a treat, but that's it."

Matt's eyes were as huge as his smile. "Cool. We're rooting for the Falcons."

"OK, why?" Judith asked, hoping she'd understand the answer. She hated that more and more of Matt's answers didn't make sense without lots of explanation.

"'Cause the Harpies are all girls," he said. "Who wants to watch girls?"

"Sounds good," Judith answered, thinking that that answer was going to change way too fast for her taste.

**Friday, August 17, 2018**

Scorpius knocked on the door to his father's study. "Come in," his father said. When Scorpius was standing in front of Father's desk, posture straight and head high as was proper, he nodded and asked, "What can I do for you?"

"For the Quidditch match tomorrow…" He trailed off. "I am going tomorrow, aren't I?"

His father's face was stern. "Yes, you'll be coming. I expect you to answer all the questions you're asked tomorrow, even the silly ones, and I expect you to be a good example to the other children." Then he smiled. "What was your original question?"

Trying not to sigh in relief, Scorpius asked, "Must I root for the Falcons?"

Scowling, his father asked, "Why wouldn't you?"

Scorpius looked down at his feet for a moment before remembering that a Malfoy always held his head high. "Asp and Rose will be there, too."

"Yes," his father answered. "I hope they'll help with the questions; their parents have promised to do so." He smirked. "Even Rose's mother, who isn't much of a fan."

"She likes it all right," Scorpius said, "Rose says. She just doesn't like flying much." He thought for a moment about everything Rose had told him about her mum. "At all. Anyway, Asp's mother will be there and, well…" Don't stammer around; get to the point, he reminded himself. A Malfoy is always confident, even if they're proven wrong. "None of our family has ever played professional Quidditch, but Asp's mother has and it seems disloyal to root against her team."

His father leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. He wasn't angry, to Scorpius's relief. "You're right, of course, that none of our family has played professional Quidditch. We do invest in the teams," Scorpius commanded his spine to stay straight, "but those decisions are made for purely business reasons. We frequently invest in teams we don't support." His father pursed his lips for another minute. Finally, looking Scorpius straight in the eye, he said, "Your loyalty is yours to give; you're too old for me to command it of you. Asp is a fine young man of a good family, as Rose is a fine young woman of an equally good family. You may root for whom you please." Then he grinned. "But the Falcons are going to win!"

"As you say, sir," Scorpius tried to put a smug expression on his face as he turned to go.

"Just a minute," his father said, rummaging in one of the desk drawers. He pulled out a money pouch and handed it to Scorpius. "If you're going to be mature enough to think through the social implications of the team you're rooting for, you're mature enough to handle your spending money for the match yourself. There's a little extra in there if you want to treat your friends as well." His father then gave Scorpius a smile of approval that made him feel warm inside. "You make me proud, son; never doubt it."

Just as Scorpius left the room, he turned and said, "But you're wrong, sir. The Harpies will win."

He closed the door on his father's laughter.

**Saturday, August 18, 2018**

The Quidditch pitch was covered in Muggle-repelling charms; Mr. Malfoy had provided all of the Muggle families with charms to prevent problems and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were there if any cropped up anyway. Daphne sat next to Rose and Lily. "Don't forget; you promised to explain everything to me."

Both girls kept their promise, but most of the explanations slipped right out of Daphne's head. She cheered for the Harpies, booed the Falcons, and spent most of her time watching the fascinating Wizarding world at play.

Uncle Ron was passing a pair of binoculars around that he called 'Omnioculars'. "These are so cool," Rich said. "It's like having instant replay without the telly."

The instant replay was pretty cool-it made it easier to follow what was happening—but even better was how easy it was to look at everything else. Since no Muggles could get in without help, no one was worrying about how visible magic was. Spells filled the air with adverts, messages and cheers and Omnioculars were the most normal magical device she could see.

Mum and Aunt Hermione went down for food and came back with another woman. She was clearly a witch, but she reminded Daphne of the nastiest of her primary school teachers. "I've been paired with the Mitchells, such delightful people, but I thought I'd make sure that there weren't any other families that might need assistance. It's so easy for things to slip through the cracks."

"We have no complaints here," Mum said, her voice sounding strained. "Of course, with Dudley having family in the Wizarding world, it's been a little easier on us than on most of the Muggleborns' families. Daphne," Mum's smile was strained as well, "come and meet Mrs. Norman. She's working with the Malfoys to help get families adjusted." Mum's expression made it clear that Daphne had better be on her best behaviour.

"Hello, Mrs. Norman," she said, holding out her hand for a shake. "It's nice to meet you. I hope it hasn't been too much trouble."

"Not at all," Mrs. Norman said, shaking Daphne's hand. "You must be so _proud_ of her," she said to Mum, "such beautiful manners."

"Very proud," Daddy agreed with a big smile. "She's top of her class, too. She'll take Hogwarts by storm, won't you, sweetheart?"

"You bet," Daphne said. The grown-ups all looked worried for no good reason. "Do you have any kids at Hogwarts?" she asked. "Maybe I'll meet them."

"Maybe," Mrs. Norman agreed. "Ned, my youngest, is a seventh year. Ravenclaw, of course. You'll be a Gryffindor, I expect."

"Ravenclaw," Daphne said, her chin high, "is what I'm expecting."

"Daphne's very interested in what makes magic work," Aunt Hermione said. "She's hoping to do some experiments once she gets to Hogwarts."

"Well, fancy that," Mrs. Norman said, blinking. "I always thought magic just worked. Why would you need to know how?"

"Oh, that's the interesting part," Daphne said, and happily went on to explain all the wonders that could be done once the hows and whys were understood.

After a little bit, Mrs. Norman excused herself. "I need to be getting back to Judith and Matthew," she said. "I just wanted to be certain you're all right, dear." Her smile was a little vacant as she left.

Daphne turned to her mum. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" Driving a grown-up like that away would get her into trouble, but she'd been trying to be nice.

"Not even a little," Daddy said, and asked Uncle Ron where he could buy a pair of Omnioculars for Daphne. "But you're not to be taking them apart!" he told her sternly.

**Sunday, August 19, 2018**

Matt woke up slowly, but when his brain had really started working, he ran downstairs. The game yesterday had run long; it had been after nine when the Harpies' Seeker had finally caught the Snitch, ending the game 660 to 390 in the Harpies' favour. Matt still had a hard time believing that girls could play that well.

Although watching breakfast being cooked was totally wicked, Matt groaned to himself when he walked into the kitchen. Both Mum and Mrs. Norman were dressed in their "going-to-church" clothes. He'd hoped that by getting more involved in the Wizarding world he'd get out of going to church, but it didn't look like that was the case.

"I'm glad to see you up and about," Mum said, smiling at him. "Run and put your good clothes on; we're going to church."

"Yes, ma'am," Matt said, trying not to sigh. Breakfast smelled so good.

"Where are you going?" Ned asked as he walked into the kitchen. "Aren't you hungry? I'm starving!"

"I'm getting dressed for church," Matt said.

"We've got loads of time," Ned said, grinning as he grabbed Matt and dragged him to the table. "Plus there's no way you can listen to the minister on an empty stomach. You need to fortify yourself."

"Ned!" Mrs. Norman snapped. Matt noticed Mum was trying to suppress a smile, so he thought it was all right to let Ned plop him down in a chair and take a plate piled with food. Somehow, Ned's plate had even more. "Edward Norman, that's too much food for your plate."

Ned shrugged and jammed two sausages and a large spoonful of eggs between two slices of toast and began eating, ignoring his mother when she began to scold him for his manners. Matt concentrated on using his best table manners so Mum wouldn't scold him. Instead, to his delight, she beamed at him.

"It's not the regular minister today anyway," Mrs. Norman finally said. "He's on holiday. I don't know who it'll be."

Ned shrugged, seeming uninterested, while Mum asked a thousand questions about the Normans' church. Matt let it all wash through him. Mum was happy and she seemed happy with Matt as well. Maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be good.


	10. Week 9

**Monday, August 20, 2018**

_Dear Daphne,_

_My mother and I spent the weekend with Mrs Violet Norman who gave me your name. She says you're a Muggleborn wizard like me (except you're a witch of course), but the Ladies of Belnos didn't pair you with anybody because you have wizard relatives. (Is that witch relatives?) She explained how you can be a Muggleborn with wizard relatives but I didn't really understand._

_Anyway, she said I should write you. I'm not sure why. It's kind of weird writing a girl._

_I suppose we'll see each other next Saturday. I'm so excited!_

_Sincerely yours,_

_Matthew Mitchell_

_Dear Matt,_

_I've been sending lots of letters to boys this summer, so it doesn't feel so weird any more._

_Daddy and Mum are both Muggles, so I'm a Muggleborn (which I think is a silly name). Gran's sister, my Great-Aunt Lily, married a purebred wizard, James Potter. Their son, Uncle Harry, and his family, Aunt Ginny, James, Al and Lily (they're not really my aunt and uncle, but we're calling them that) are all wizards and witches and they've been helping. It's very exciting. Except for Daddy, we didn't know magic was real until I got my letter. Something happened between Gran and Gramps and Uncle Harry when he was little so they don't get along very well. He's really nice, though, so I don't really know what could have happened. So, that's how a Muggleborn has wizard relatives._

_I met Mrs. Norman at the Quidditch match on Saturday. She seems kind of strict. If she can't answer any of your questions, let me know and I'll ask Uncle Harry. (Or Al, since he's a boy almost your age.)_

_What are the Ladies of Belnos? Do you have to be a grown-up to join?_

_See you next Saturday!_

_Daphne_

**Tuesday, August 21, 2018**

When finally seated comfortably in the Weasleys' parlour, with tea and biscuits in front of her, Tori opened her briefcase. "I know the next meeting isn't until the week after next, but I thought it would be good to have some things set up first."

Hermione nodded. "I think that's an excellent idea. Did you know that Violet Norman gave Matt Mitchell Daphne's name and address and suggested he write her? He mentioned the Ladies of Belenos, too."

Tori sighed. "I still insist that there are good reasons for her to work with the Mitchells. Did it cause any trouble?"

"No," Hermione said. "Fortunately, Daphne likes writing and talking with people, so she just thinks she has a new friend. Well, she's making a new friend, which won't hurt Matt either. However, Sophie had some things to say about it."

It took Tori a minute to remember who Sophie was. "Just that Violet's a bit on the nosy side," she said, thinking that she was going to have to talk with Violet. "I'm sure she didn't mean any offence." When Hermione just raised her eyebrows, Tori shrugged. "She doesn't mean it. She may cause it, but she doesn't mean it."

To Tori's relief, that made Hermione chuckle. "You might want to warn her that Sophie's very protective of her family. Now," she reached over to a stack of paper on an end table, "I had some ideas.

Tori eyed the stack warily. "Before we get started on your list, I have two things I wanted to discuss," she said. When Hermione didn't jump right in, Tori continued with, "First, I think we need hard numbers about abuse. There's three groups we need to check. Muggles, wizards, and Muggleborns."

"Four," Hermione said. "We should include Squibs as well."

"Why?" Tori asked.

"Because they're in the same type of category as the Muggleborns, they have even fewer protections and I know I've heard of specific abuse."

Feeling her cheeks heat, Tori nodded. "You're right; I just hadn't thought of it." She made a note. "How do we get the numbers?"

"I ask my brother-in-law," Hermione said with a grin. "This is just the sort of project Percy loves to sink his teeth into." She reached over to her stack and shuffled papers around for a few minutes before pulling out a good percentage of them and put them aside. "What's the other one?"

That made Tori grin. If they were already thinking on the same lines, this would work even better than she'd thought it would. "All right, this is something I think we'll want to discourage, but I've heard it mentioned by a couple of different people in a couple of different ways." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "There are some people who think we ought to be contacting the Muggleborns earlier."

"In and of itself, that's not a bad idea," Hermione said. "Something tells me I won't like where it's headed."

"Probably not," Tori agreed. "The most extreme suggestions I've heard are to remove the Muggleborns from their family immediately and place them with a wizarding family." She wasn't going to mention that that was her sister's idea.

To Tori's surprise, Hermione didn't shout. Instead, her eyes narrowed. "Which will make it so much easier to put a more reasonable solution in place," she said, her mouth twisted.

Tori winced. "That hadn't occurred to me," she said.

"This isn't the first dirty fight I've been in," Hermione said. "Anything put in place with Muggle families has to be put in place for wizard families as well. Otherwise, I will fight it with everything I have."

Tori thought for a moment. The solution she'd come up with, and she thought it both reasonable and fair, wouldn't work for wizard families. Unless they included Squibs, an issue she hadn't even considered. "My original proposal was going to be to send an envoy to the families once we see the child's name in the register. Provide information, assistance, communication and whatever else is needed."

"Including surveillance," Hermione said, her brows drawing in. "Look, I know it sounds reasonable on the surface—"

"But I hadn't considered Squibs," Tori continued before the battle could begin. "So, perhaps we should do the same for wizarding children who aren't in the register."

That stopped the Muggleborn witch. "There's still so much room for abuse," she said after a few minutes, but she didn't sound nearly as ready to fight.

"All right," Tori said, hauling out her quill. "Let's refine it. If we don't have something sensible ready to suggest, people will polarise too quickly for any good to be done."

Looking impressed, Hermione nodded. "I agree." Pulling out several of her own papers, she started discussing possibilities.

Tori just hoped it would work. She'd watched her world descend into horror once; no more.

**Wednesday, August 22, 2018**

_Dear Ginny,_

_Is Lily feeling any better? I hate these summer colds; at least Pepper-Up works a little more quickly than the Muggle remedies._

_Tori and I had a meeting yesterday about an agenda for the Ladies of Belenos. That seems to be the name that's sticking. I'm still not sure about that; too much like the Knights of Walpurgis to me and you know what I think about that._

_Tori's not too bad, though. Prejudiced towards purebloods, of course, but I think that's more because that's what she knows than any real animosity. It means that she'll be likely to accept solutions that sound reasonable on the surface without realising the problems under the surface. _

_It's never occurred to me to look below the surface, but how do most wizards view Squibs? I know they're looked down on, but they are still viewed as human, aren't they? Are they still welcome in their families, or are they essentially outcast? Tori seemed so surprised when I mentioned Squibs and she seemed more than a bit guilty as well._

_My love to everyone. What do you think about a picnic on Friday?_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Lily's fine but Harry's going to make himself ill. He's been working almost non-stop this month. He keeps saying that he has a really bad feeling, but he can't tell me what he thinks is going to happen. I wish he'd rest up so he's ready to fight whatever-it-is, but, well, he's Harry._

_What happened with Hugo? I ran into Ron on Diagon Alley the other day and he said something about taking him to the Healer. Is he all right?_

_A picnic sounds great. The whole family or what?_

_Squibs. That's a tough one. No one likes to talk about them, because it's viewed as a failing on the part of the family. Even though we know they're born that way, having a Squib in the family is considered something to be ashamed of. My understanding is that most families hide them away; you won't see Squibs at family functions or such. Beyond that, I just don't know. (Mr Filch is the only Squib I've ever met, at least that I know of.)_

_Let me know if I can help out. _

_Love,_

_Ginny_

**Thursday, August 23, 2018**

At precisely five minutes past the hour, Lucius cast a bell-like tone loud enough to be heard throughout the hall. After giving those present a few minutes to get settled, he walked to the podium and cast _Sonorus_ on his throat.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he began, "and thank you for coming to the inaugural meeting of the Knights of Walpurgis for this new age." Harry watched the older wizard look around the room, a superior smile on his face. "I see that we have a full representation of the wizards of our community; I hope those who could not be here tonight will be present at future meetings."

He looked down at the scroll he'd brought to the podium with him. Looking around the room, Harry noticed that Malfoy's son, Draco, was seated at the back of the room, near the door. He looked like he was ready to bolt.

Lucius then went into a long speech about the history of the Knights, what they used to do, what they could do now, and why they should be reinstated. Implicit, although he was careful never to say it, was that Lucius should be the Head Knight.

Finally, after nearly an hour, he suggested that they take a break and open the floor for discussions. Harry stood up and stretched. Before he could move, Ron caught up to him. "I don't like this. Dad's saying the same thing; the Knights of Walpurgis were always trouble. What do you think he's up to?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Look, I'm going to see if I can talk with Draco—"

"First name basis?" Ron looked annoyed.

"Sort of," Harry answered. "Otherwise it gets confusing. I want to see how he's reacting to this."

It didn't take very long to find Draco. He was standing near the open bar, holding a glass of something and looking forbidding. Harry ignored the glare and walked up to him. "Malfoy," he said, "Al asked if Scorpius could visit next Friday. Ron and Hermione are having a picnic to celebrate the end of summer and beginning of school."

Draco's face relaxed a little. "Offhand, I don't see why not, but I'd better ask Tori before committing him. Even if he can't come, thanks for inviting him. Will there be a more formal invitation?"

"Probably," Harry said with a grin, nodding at a Ministry official he didn't know very well who was glaring at him. "Hermione's running it, so . . .'

"Understood," Draco said. "I'll talk with Tori tonight and let you know by tomorrow morning. Or should I contact Mrs Weasley directly."

"Me, please," Harry said. "Otherwise, Al will pester me to keep Flooing her."

Draco chuckled. "Sure. Now, do you expect me to believe that was the only reason you came over here?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, "No. Should I be worried?"

"I am," Draco said, "although I can't give a good reason for it. I'm not going to turn my back on him, he's my father, but that doesn't mean I trust this idea of his. He's got a reason to do this." Draco grimaced. "Actually, he probably is doing it for the Wizarding world; it's just that he has a very limited idea of what's good for us."

"I'm not asking you to turn on him," Harry said. "I just don't want to see us polarised again. If he's doing it for the overall good, let's just make sure the definition is right."

With a thin smile, Draco raised his glass. "Here's to proper definition."

Harry raised his empty hand, which made Draco laugh. "All right, Potter," he said, his voice pitched to carry a little, "go get yourself something to drink and rejoin your family. They're all over there and I think they're planning your rescue. Merlin knows what that would entail."

"Behave," Harry said laughing, as he made his way to the bar.

When he'd joined the Weasleys, Ron asked, "So what did he say?"

"Pretty much what he said before," Harry said. "I don't think Malfoy's trying to usher in a new Dark Lord. I think he's just trying to get a little of his old power back." He looked around. "Where's Arthur?"

"Talking to the man himself," George said, nodding to where Malfoy was standing. Harry hadn't noticed before, but Arthur Weasley was standing next to him. The conversation looked intense, it didn't look like they were agreeing, but it seemed to be staying civilised. Remembering the brawl in Flourish & Blotts before his second year, Harry thought this was encouraging.

Arthur returned right before Lucius started the meeting again, so they couldn't really talk. Then, Lucius said, "Now, I know some of you are concerned about my motives. I know they're," he paused a moment before saying, "well-intentioned, but there's an understandable scepticism. In order to demonstrate my intentions, I thought I'd ask someone of impeccable credentials to take us through the process of recreating ourselves. Arthur Weasley, will you accept this charge?" With a nod in Arthur's direction, Lucius stepped back from the podium.

Arthur stood and walked to the podium, standing very straight. He nodded politely at Lucius as he passed Malfoy and stepped up to the podium. "Well," he said, after a minute, "I've never tried to create something like this, and I don't think anyone else has, so let's see what we can do."

Lucius quietly stepped off the podium to a chair nearby, picked up a glass, and sat back. He looked completely in control as Arthur carefully began the process of organising the group. At one point, when one of his old fellow Death Eaters began to argue, he looked about to stand, only to sit back again when Arthur calmly cut the other man off.

By the end of the evening, the basics of the new Knights of Walpurgis had been settled, with elections to be held at the next biweekly meeting. As Arthur returned, Harry heard his in-laws discussing the probability that it would be Arthur, not Lucius Malfoy, running the organisation. In spite of his complete trust in Arthur Weasley, Harry still felt uneasy about it. Looking over, he could see the same unease in Draco Malfoy.

**Friday, August 24, 2018**

After his father answered his knock, Scorpius walked into his father's study, a bright smile on his face. Standing before the desk, Scorpius stood tall and handed his father the invitation. "May I go?" he asked, anticipating the approval. The invitation had been mentioned at breakfast that morning; both of his parents had agreed that there was no reason Scorpius couldn't attend.

"As we discussed this morning," his father said, looking over the invitation. He tapped the invitation on his desk a few times, looking thoughtful. "Has your grandfather said anything to you about this?"

"No, sir," Scorpius answered, puzzled. "Grandmother told Mother that dress should have been included on the invitation, but nothing else."

His father chuckled. "Unless otherwise stated, a Weasley or Potter get-together is 'Casual'." He shook his head. "I assume that was your mother's assumption."

"Yes, sir," Scorpius said, keeping his face solemn and dignified with some effort. Mother's response had been funnier. "The note Asp included implied as much, and that I should bring a swim suit."

Father smiled. "Good. Scorpius," his father started and then didn't continue. Scorpius was confused; his father was never indecisive. "If anything is said about the Knights of Walpurgis or Arthur Weasley, don't become involved. These are adult matters and not something about which you should concern yourself."

"Er, Mr Weasley will probably be there," Scorpius said. Mr Weasley was nice; lots of fun and relaxed, like a grandfather in a storybook. He didn't want to have to avoid him.

Fortunately, Father shook his head. "No, of course you can socialise with him. As appropriate," he said with a stern look. "I just meant you should steer clear of political discussions. You're still a child; you shouldn't concern yourself in these matters."

That wasn't as easy as it sounded. "Father, in the letter Asp enclosed, he mentioned a discussion about the meeting last night. His parents, well, all of the adults in his family, were . . ." Scorpius thought of how to politely word the suspicions Asp had repeated. "They were concerned about Grandfather's motives. What if they ask?"

"Will Asp ask?" His father looked thoughtful.

Scorpius shrugged before he remembered that that was not fitting behaviour for a Malfoy. His father raised an eyebrow as Scorpius felt himself blush. "He'll probably want to talk to me about it. He's curious. He said . . ." Again, he tried to find a diplomatic way of phrasing Asp's comments.

"Sit down, son," his father said. Scorpius smiled as he did; his father rarely asked him to sit when he was in his office. "First, you aren't to worry about this. You are a child, and you should not be burdened with these matters for years yet." Scorpius was happy his father's scowl wasn't directed at him; he looked angry, which Father rarely was. "However, I do want you to understand the undercurrents. I would wish you didn't have to, at least, not yet, but you do." After a moment, he continued, "In the Voldemort Wars, both of them, both the Weasley and Malfoy families were heavily involved, and on opposite sides. In the end," his father's expression had turned rueful, "the Weasleys clearly chose the right side. Now, it's over, reparations have been made and punishments have been served. However, it does mean that our motives are questioned any time we make any political moves."

"Like Grandfather forming the Knights of Walpurgis," Scorpius said, letting his father know that he understood. He thought his father was being pretty silly; of course he knew all this. He and Asp had decided when they first met that they were going to ignore the family politics and just be friends. "Asp asked if I knew anything; I was just going to tell him what I know, which isn't much."

"What you and Asp choose to discuss," his father said, still looking grave, "is up to you, as long as you remain appropriately respectful. However, if any of the adults at the gathering ask you questions, refer them to your mother or me. Do you understand?"

Before he thought about it, Scorpius said, "Didn't they let you alone when you were a kid?"

His father sighed and looked down at the desk. "Things were very different," he said after a minute. His voice was so soft that Scorpius had to strain to hear him. "Hogwarts should never have been a battlefield."

Scorpius didn't know what to say to that. He'd seen the memorial at the school, with the names of everyone who'd died there that day, but it never seemed _real_ before. "May I ask?" he started, not knowing how to continue.

His father stood and poured himself a drink. Of firewhiskey, before supper! Then he poured Scorpius a glass of pumpkin juice. "I would prefer you not discuss with your friends. That includes Asp. If he asks you questions, let me know; I'll want to discuss it with his parents. Do you understand? These are adult matters, and his parents may not want him to know all of it."

Scorpius agreed, even though he knew Asp's father had described the entire battle to him. Father didn't need to know that.

"Your grandfather believed in the Dark Lord's agenda," his father said. "In some ways, I think he was relieved when he was defeated when I was a baby; I don't know for certain as we've never discussed it." He took a deep drink and sighed. "When he returned, I was a couple of years older than you are now, but I'd already made my allegiance known. Potter, Asp's father, and I were already . . . Merlin, enemies sounds melodramatic, but that's the way we thought of each other. There was a battle, in the Department of Mysteries. Something the Dark Lord wanted was there, and he lured Potter there to liberate it. It was unsuccessful and your grandfather was caught and imprisoned."

Scorpius was on the edge of his seat. He'd never heard any of this!

"In order to redeem our family, the Dark Lord gave me an assignment. I was to kill Albus Dumbledore, the head of the Order of the Phoenix." Father sighed. "I was a bloody fool, but I tried. After a year of attempts that I can now see were juvenile, I had him cornered on the Astronomy Tower." His father glanced at Scorpius, his shoulders hunched. "I couldn't do it. I'm not brave, Scorpius; don't ever tell yourself otherwise." He finished his drink and poured another and drank about half of it in one long swallow. "The details, they don't matter." He looked at Scorpius, his grey eyes hard. "Harry Potter had the opportunity to destroy us. We'd done nothing but try to destroy him for years. And yet, Asp's father, granted us mercy. In his version of the story, there were good reasons to do so, but I know that, if the positions had been reversed, I would not have given him that same mercy. So, if any of the adults there ask you, tell them that . . ." His father stood and stared into empty air. "Tell them to ask me, but I will never be able to repay the debt I owe him. And I'll never be able to look him in the eye and say so." He looked over at Scorpius. "I'm not brave, Scorpius." Returning to the decanter, his father poured another drink. "Go to the picnic. Enjoy yourself. Be a child, make friends, don't destroy yourself before you're out of your teens." When Scorpius didn't move, his father looked at him. "Go on," he said softly, "I'll see you at supper. You're a good boy, son. Make me proud."

Scorpius left, walked at a dignified pace to his bedroom, closed the door, threw himself on his bed, and tried to decide if crying would make him feel worse or better.

**Saturday, August 25, 2018**

_Dear Matt,_

_Hey, kid. Your mum told me that you'll be going to that Hogwarts school after all. I'm glad; I know how much you wanted to go. But no more telling stories; that's no way to get what you want._

_I'm writing to let you know that I'm going to be away longer than I thought initially. The company's opening a couple of branches in the United States and they're sending me there. I hope to be back by the end of your school year. That's sometime in June, right?_

_I've enclosed the address and phone number you can reach me at. Phone calls are better than letters; I'll be moving around a lot._

_Have fun and do what your mum tells you._

_Dad_

**Sunday, August 26, 2018**

_Scorpius,_

_Daphne's after me to write this Matt Mitchell kid. I'm not sure, except he's a Muggleborn first year. I thought if he got a letter from you too he'd feel better when he starts. He missed the tour, Daphne didn't tell me why._

_It's fantastic that you're going to be able to come to the picnic next week. If anybody asks you about this night stuff, just ignore 'em. Uncle Percy disapproves and he's being a pain about it._

_If you can think of any Wheezes we should get with the standard stuff, let me know. I'll see if I can't wangle a special trip to load up._

_Got to go now. James is being a prick._

_Asp_

_Dear Matthew,_

_My cousin Daphne asked me to write you so you'll know people when you start Hogwarts next week. It's exciting, isn't it?_

_I don't know what she wants me to say. So, I'm Asp Potter. My real name's Albus, I was named for one of the old headmasters, my family call's me Al and my friends call me Asp. I'm a second year Slytherin. (Don't worry too much about the houses, but if it really matters to you, talk to the Hat.)_

_I can't think of anything else to say, so _

_See on the Express!_

_Asp_

_Dear Matt,_

_I understand that you are one of the new first years, and that you were not raised in a magical household. I also understand that you were unable to take part in the Hogwarts tour this summer. I would like to extend my assistance to you in any way you should need it._

_(Father dictated that; he says it's important to sound dignified even in letters. I'm just glad he doesn't try to dictate my letters to Asp, he'd never stop "taking the mickey" out of me.)_

_Since you asked Daphne for help, I think you get all of the Weasleys. Mostly, if you see a red head, they're a Weasley. There's a lot of them. They're almost all in Gryffindor. Gryffindor's where all the idiotic heroes are. Slytherins, which is the traditional House of the Malfoys, including me, are sensible and work out how to get what they want. Asp and Rose (she's a Weasley and Asp's cousin. He has a lot of cousins.) are both Slytherins as well. If you want to ride with us you can. (That's assuming Rose doesn't object, but she's nice so she probably won't.)_

_What else do you want to know?_

_Sincerely,_

_Scorpius Malfoy_

_Dear Asp,_

_Thanks. It's nice to think I know some people before I get on the train. It's all really exciting._

_What's the deal with the name? And what's the deal with Malfoy? He seems nice, but kinda stuck-up._

_I'll see you next Saturday!_

_Matt_

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Thanks. It's nice that I'm going to know people before school starts._

_And can you say "Hi" to your dad? He was really nice this summer when things got tough._

_Matt_

_Dear Daphne,_

_Well, Asp and Scorpius have written to poor Matt Mitchell. He's going to be so confused! They're all such boys!_

_We'll have to keep an eye on things and make sure they all don't do anything stupid. Are you coming on Friday?_

_Rose_


End file.
